A Second Chance
by iamfrom101
Summary: This is the life of two people as their lives merge into one. The everyday life, the extraordinary life. Follow my F!SS and MacCready as they navigate the wastes, trying to do more than just survive. But actually thrive, live. The story spans from beginning of the game and far beyond. So, obviously, spoilers. There are countless references to in-game dialogue, as well as Fallout 3.
1. Author's Note & Introduction

_A/N: This is just a "little" introduction to my fic here. How I have it written may be a bit confusing, and this is to just clear it up some. This intro may be a bit lengthy, but in the long run, it'll help the story make more sense—as I see it in my head._

 _This fic is written after my own playthrough of Fallout 4. The relationships, the major plot events, all of it is modeled after my version of the game. However, this being said, I have included some other aspects. There will be canon, my own personal—as well as influenced—headcanons, and some AU in this tale. Some of the AU things included are how I wished some particular things would have been, or maybe I like the canon version, but I felt it needed improvement._

 _And… what if the concept of… "magic," was real in this universe? Let's just propose, for a moment, that the whole cryo process adds a bit of a magic-like ability to the Sole Survivor. Things that happen, although they probably shouldn't have, or maybe even the time of certain experiences are sped up? Nobody really credits these small changes to "magic." I mean, magic isn't even real, right? But… what if?_

 _Also, I will—in some chapters—be switching perspectives. It may be a little disorienting, but in these chapters, I felt like a certain perspective should be expressed—I wanted to show how that person saw what was happening at that time. So, bear with me when I switch on you. To me, it helps the story progression._

 _I, myself, fancy MacCready a_ lot. _I've known him since Fallout 3, and was super excited to see him in Fallout 4. The backstory he was given is extremely unfortunate, but I feel like it makes him into who he is: a strong, family man that is willing to put his life on the line to protect those he calls his loved ones. So, if it seems like the line between my F!SS and myself cross, this_ may _be the reason. Jury's still out on that one._

 _As for smut… Sorry, erotica readers. I am not one for writing it. Reading it may or may not be another story… Anyway, considering this fic is following a romantic plot line, there will be a_ bit _of sexy stuffs included, just not super detailed. Two reasons. One: As I mentioned, I'm not a smut writer. And two: I like to leave it up to the imagination, as I like to do with other details. This is why I typically do not express whether the left or right hand is performing a task, or what side somebody is on—I only do this when I feel it is important. There's nothing more annoying than reading, and imagining, something one way in your head, just for it to be flipped upside down later on, due to the writer leaving those details out earlier on. It bugs the crap out of me, so I try my best to stay away from writing like that myself._

 _Anyway, sorry for making this so long. But if you made it this far, and still plan on reading my fic: Congratulations! You're my favourite person in the world! :)_

 _Enjoy!_


	2. 01 The Blue Suit

_A/N: Here we go_ — _the very beginning of my full-fledged fanfiction! I've worked on this from February of 2016 to June of 2017_ — _so about a year and a half. It's safe to assume I've become very attached to these people, the story, and kind of find it difficult to upload and say it's over. But, I'm excited to share it at the same time._

 _Listen to me ramble. Anywho. Here it is, lovelies. Enjoy :)_

* * *

1\. The Blue Suit

MacCready POV

 _How To Love_ by Lil Wayne

 _I see you looking 'round the corner…_

Magnolia starts one of her original songs she says is titled _I'm The One You're Looking For_. Written directly for anyone and everyone wondering the Commonwealth and unluckily finds themselves in Goodneighbor. Including myself. Why am I here again?

Caps. I need all I can get my hands on. God, why did it have to happen to him? I take a shot directly out of the bottle of bourbon sitting on the table next to me. It won't help me in the long run, but it helps ease the pain right now.

I hear a loud voice booming from the main room of the Third Rail. He's looking for MacCready. Normally, I'd be happy that I might have a customer. Not today. _Fu-…frickin' Winlock. Barnes is probably with him. How'd they find me?_

Just as I suspected, Winlock walks into the room, his figure being shadowed by his own personal lapdog, Barnes.

"MacCready," Winlock greets me, Barnes looking toward the door to see if anyone followed them in.

I stare at him, trying to make the boredom show on my face. "I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to take me down, Winlock." I give him a smug grin. "It's been almost three months… don't tell me you're getting rusty. Should we take this outside?" I add with a tantalizing tone.

"It ain't like that. I'm just here to deliver a message." He seems rearing to go for a round, but this isn't no town to start a war with.

He doesn't seem to get it. "In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good."

"Yeah, I heard. But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn't going to work for us."

I notice something just on the other side of the door. Being distracted by it, I try to make my tone as rough as I can. "I don't take orders from you…" What I noticed on the other side of the door moves out of sight—it was a person. I try to finish what I was saying. "Not anymore. So, why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can."

I laugh internally because it seems that Barnes was taken aback. "What?! Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this…"

"Listen up, MacCready," Winlock gets my attention. "The only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people's boundaries… we know how to play the game. It's something _you_ never learned."

Feeling snarky, I retort, "Glad to have disappointed you."

Winlock laughs and responds, "You can play tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?"

I heave a small sigh. "You finished?" I really want to know what that mysterious figure was up to, creeping around like that.

"Yeah… we're finished." He turns toward the door, still looking at me with cutting eyes. "Come on, Barnes."

As the jerks leave the room, I hear Barnes say, "Watch it!" to which I hear a small apology in a distinctively female voice. Time to see what was going on.

"Hey, you over there!" I call out. I see the person that was peeking around the doorframe a minute ago peek out again, their eyes barely even visible.

"Me?" they ask. It's the same voice as the person with the small apology.

"Yeah," I answer. "What do you want?"

She finally comes out of her hiding spot. And what she looks like… I definitely am not expecting _that._

It's a young woman in her twenties, I'd guess. She has golden blonde hair, lightly windblown and resting atop her shoulders. Her skin is the palest I've ever seen, and free of every kind of dirt imaginable. Set behind a pair of dorky-looking eyeglasses, she has the most beautiful, big and rounded blue eyes I've ever seen. They're as clear as polished crystal. They're piercing, but they're set in a timid face—her entire face cries out innocence. And her clothing seems to go right along with that.

She wears a blue vaultsuit. I haven't seen one of those since I was in the Capital Wasteland. The Pip-Boy on her left wrist is the cherry on top—anyone could get a vaultsuit if they tried. The Pip-Boy however…

She breaks the silence. "I-I'm sorry to have bothered you. Someone out front said something about the back room… and I heard talking… so I-I got curious…" She looks around the room, trying to avoid my face from the looks of it.

"Look," I say, "if you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun… then maybe we can talk." _That came out harsher than I meant…_

"No, I'm not…" she starts off, taking a deep breath. "Who were those guys?"

 _Why does she wanna know?_ "A couple of morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up. You shouldn't be surprised though, that's how it goes when you run with the Gunners."

She looks confused. "Gunners?" she asks. "Who are they?"

 _Wow, she is_ not _from the wastelands._ "They're one of the biggest gangs in the Commonwealth. Got a rep for being crazy. You know, so tightly wound, you'd think they were a cult or something." She looks a little scared, so I back it off a hair. "Stuck with them for a while cause the money was good, but I never fit in. That's why I made a clean break and started flying solo." _Time to make a sales pitch._ "Now, what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?" _Ha. Like she even knows how to shoot a gun._

Her already big eyes rounded even bigger with surprise. "Why would I shoot you?"

 _Seriously? Why wouldn't you?_ "Who wouldn't in the Commonwealth?"

She looks down at the floor. "Not me," she says, so quietly that I almost didn't hear her. "What are you asking?" She looks back to me.

"Price is 250 caps… up front. And there's no room for bargaining."

"…I don't know if I have that many." She looks toward a pouch on her leather armor. "Won't you take less?" Whether she meant to look pouty while asking that or not is beyond me.

"I said it was not negotiable." She looks down to the floor again. "It's not like I'm going anywhere soon anyway. If you get more caps, you know where to find me." She looks up at my face with a weird look on her face, like she's uncomfortable. With big eyes—and a look of pure awkwardness—she spins on her heel, pauses for a second, then walks out of the room so fast she could have been flying for all I know.

She definitely knows how to make a first impression. I'll give her that.


	3. 02 The Contract

2\. The Contract

MacCready POV

 _Satisfaction Guaranteed_ by The Firm

Here I am, slouched back in the red armchair as always. I've been sitting in it for the past several months. _Am I ever going to leave? Duncan needs me, and all I do is sit here and drink booze._ I turn the glass in my hand, looking at it from another angle. _I have to do something. C'mon, MacCready! Do something!_ I straighten up in my chair. _Go find a customer, since they're not coming to you._

I'm about to stand up when I hear boots coming down the hall from the main room. They sound determined—have that sound of someone walking with purpose. A few seconds later, I find out why.

It's the blonde chick. The vault dweller that was in here about a month ago. _She looks different. What is it that's different?_

She strolls right up to me and looks me in the eye expectantly. "You came back," I say, trying to keep the shock and confusion out of my voice, and failing miserably.

"Of course," she simply replies. "I'm surprised you're still here. Figured you'd be long gone." She has seemingly already said more in the last five seconds than in the five minutes when we first met.

"Told you I would be," I come back evenly. "You come back for a social call?"

"Nah," she replies. "I come for business." She pulls a string to release a smallish bag from the side of her leather armor and throws it to me. When I catch it, the sound clearly indicates caps are inside. I look up at her with a confused face.

"You said 250. Well, there's 250." She straightens her glasses a bit before continuing. "I'd like to hire you. I did last time, I just didn't have the money. So. Are you still for hire or just sitting here enjoying the view of the bar?" _She's definitely different now._

"Yeah, I'm still for hire," I say, cautiously, as I open the bag to find what looks around the amount of 250 caps. _She did it. Wow._ "You sure about this?" I look back at her to see a smooth look in her eyes.

She doesn't answer right away, but when she does, she says, "I'm sure. Do we have a contract?"

I sigh and get to my feet, stashing the caps in the pocket on my thigh, and grab my rifle from behind the chair that's been home for far too long. "Yeah. Alright then. Lead on, boss." _That felt weird to say._ It had been so long since I'd had a boss for one, but also because I never would have considered her a potential for that role when I first saw her. _Where is the shy young woman I met a month ago?_

As I'm about to walk out the door ahead of her, she calls my attention. "Psst." I look her way to find her crouched by a curio on the same wall as the door. "Hold on," she whispers. "Anybody coming?" What a weird thing to ask. I shake my head after looking to the main room, finding everybody's attention on Magnolia as she belts out _Man Enough._ "Alright. Get down and keep watch." She turns back to the curio.

I don't understand what she's doing until a couple inhalers of Jet and a bottle of Gwinnett is in the bag hanging off her shoulder. "Are you stealing?" I ask, bewildered. She pauses her raid to look at me. She gives me a level glare before putting a finger to her lips and lightly shushes me. _The hell?_

What happened to the innocent, sweet, little vault dweller that was hiding behind the wall a month ago? The same one that cringed at just the sound of the Gunners. The same one that barely had enough caps to cover that night's food costs. This woman and the woman I met a month ago could not be the same. Yet it is.

As she finishes her looting from the VIP room of the Third Rail, she comes over and looks at me with the same expectant look as when she came in. "I have some plans. Hope you don't mind."

"Um. Plans?" She nods. "What plans? And why would _I_ mind? You're the one paying here. I really don't have say."

"Well, it's gonna bring in some more caps, so I didn't think you would." _She knows me enough, I guess._ "But… still thought I'd tell you. It's how I was raised." _Must've been nice to_ be _raised._ "Before I came back here, I took a job from Whitechapel Charlie. We're heading toward the Memory Den." She walks past me and leaves the room. Still confused, I follow her.

It would be dark out if it weren't for the street lights, still working miraculously. _Must be around 9 o'clock by now._ I look at my watch, confirming this. As we near the Memory Den, she darts to the right of it, toward a short alley. She walks up to a door and turns around, scanning the area we had just come from. _Well, she's odd._ She turns back to the door—crouched—and bows her head to the doorknob. I'm about two feet from her when she says, "There's a few warehouses here in Goodneighbor that need cleaning." She looks back at me with the noise of the successful click of a picked lock. "And I'm the new cleaning lady." She opens the door and motions me inside. She's still crouched, so I join her. As she closes the door behind me, we hear some voices upstairs.

"Can't believe the boss is makin' us watch this crap," a voice says.

"I know," another responds. "It's not even important." _These people are so from Boston,_ I think. _Their accents are so strong._

The first voice says, "I'm gonna go grab some supper from the cooler downstairs. Want anything?"

"Yeah. Get me a Nuka."

"You think I was serious? Get it yourself." We start to hear footsteps directly above, heading toward the stairs—toward us.

My new boss grabs a combat knife out of a sheath on her hip and moves her way—still crouched—toward the stairs, hiding on the left side. _Stay there and duck,_ she mouths. _Like hell I am,_ I mouth back as I move to her side. She just rolls her eyes at me.

As the man I assume was the first voice comes down the stairs and turns left—away from us—she leaps up behind him, silent as a ninja, and slits the man's throat. _She's brutal._ I can't decide if I'm more scared, shocked, or impressed by her having done that. She turns and looks at me, raising her eyebrows at the dumbfounded look on my face. I just shake my head, so she turns and goes up the stairs. "Next," she whispers as she grips her knife in her hand more securely.

We spend the next 10 minutes "cleaning house," as she'd put it. When we finally reach the top level, we find a man sitting alone, picking at some kind of food on a stick. The boss just pulls out her 10mm and shoots a new hole in his head. "There," she says. "One warehouse down, two to go." She walks over to his body taking the .45 ammo from him before turning to the food he was working on. "Hm. Squirrel," she comments, picking it up and finishing the last three bites that were left. Normal behaviour for a regular wastelander. Her I imagine… not so much. And as if to prove me even more wrong, she notices an open bottle of Gwinnett Lager, picks it up and takes a swig from it. Seeing my surprised face, she asks, "What?"

"Didn't think you'd be one to do any of that." She looks confused, so I drop it with a shake of my head.

As we leave the warehouse, I ask her suddenly, "Hey, can I talk to you?"

"Of course." She turns to look at me with the same expectant look in her eyes that she had when she walked in, about to hire me.

"Out of the line of people's sight?" I ask, continuing my previous question.

"I don't see why you can't just talk right here," she says, looking around her to find only a few neighborhood watchers walking around.

"If you didn't trust me with your life, I don't think you would've hired me to watch your back. We're still in town. If I wanted you dead, I'd at least wait until we were far from Goodneighbor. And the fact that I'm telling you this makes it much less likely that I'm going to kill you. Wouldn't you agree?" She looks at me, exasperated.

"Fine," she says, walking into the alleyway nearby, even turning left to go further into the alley. _Guess she believed me._ When she gets to the end, she spins on her heel and looks at me. "Go ahead."

"Well…" I start, not really knowing how to continue. I decide to muster all I have and just spit it out already. "You're not exactly who I remember from our first meeting," I begin with. "You're different."

"How so?" She asks, crossing her arms in defense.

"I don't know. Just… you act different. You talk different. The way you carry yourself, you know?" I realize she must think I'm saying this negatively. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing!" I say almost with too much speed to seem nonchalant. Trying to recover, I continue, "Change isn't all bad. I think it's good for you. Not _you_ particularly, but… people…" I notice I sound horrible just rattling on like this so I decide it'd be best to stop. I sigh and relax the arm I was using to emphasize my words.

She's silent for so long I think she must believe me crazy and is wondering why she hired me in the first place. Finally, she speaks with one of the most somber tones I've heard. "I had to."

She says it so quiet I have to ask, "What? I couldn't hear you."

"I had to change," she says a bit louder. She clears her throat. "I've been out here in this… wasteland… for a while now. I've seen that people like me—people who are like… how I _used_ to be—they get killed so fast. I can't get killed yet. I _can't_." She looks down at her hands and tries scrapping the dirt out from under her fingernails. Under her breath: "I had to change. I can't die just yet." She realizes the dirt has moved in permanently and gives up, throwing her arms back to her sides.

"What could be so important?" I blurt out before fully thinking it through, and instantly regretting it.

She looks at me with a thin line of a mouth and a fire in her eyes. I'm not sure if I should be scared of said fire or not. "That's none of your concern currently," she replies with a steely voice.

"Wouldn't it help if I knew?" I ask.

"No! Just… no." She turns to head out of the alley. "You don't need to know to do your job. You just need to worry about watching my back. …We're done talking." She sighs. "To the next warehouse." She walks out of the alley, leaving me staring after her until I realize I should probably be following her.

We finish cleaning the next two warehouses with ease. Somewhere in the second one, I asked her what I should call her. _Just call me Boss, I guess,_ she said. _That's what you've been calling me. That's fine._ When I told her my name, she just said _Hmm,_ and reminisced how she went to school with a MacCready. _Wonder if I knew your great-great-grandad or something,_ she continued then laughed. _How old does she think she is,_ I wondered at that comment, but decided to just leave it.

As we are walking down the stairs of the cleared third and final warehouse, she stops on the landing to continue our small squabble. "I do not have weird habits!"

"You do, too. Who else picks up everything that isn't nailed down, anyway, huh?

"These things can be repurposed. I guess you've never heard of recycling?" She crosses her arms as if to prove a point.

"Whatever, Boss. It's still weird." By this point, I really couldn't care less about it, but it's funny to see her worked up, so continue on I shall.

Suddenly, I hear a noise behind me, on the stairs we just came from. As I turn around, reloading my rifle, a gunshot fires. Loud and deep. From the sound of it, it must've been a .44 caliber. "That's for killing all of my frien—" I have my rifle ready and finally shoot the last remaining Triggerman between the eyes, cutting his words off.

I turn around to see my boss lying on the ground, blood seeping out of a bullet hole on her right shoulder, just below the collarbone. She looks as if she hasn't been shot before. _Probably hasn't been._ My auto-medic kicks in before I realize I need to.

I pull a Stimpak from my pouch, along with a leather strip I keep for purposes like these. "Bite on it," I say as I shove it in her mouth. She doesn't even have time to be confused by my order as I reach into her shoulder with my fingers and pull the whole—luckily intact—bullet out. She screams into the leather strip, from the pain as much as the swiftness of which it all happened. I reach for the Stimpak and inject it directly next to the bullet hole itself.

"Sorry I don't have any Med-X. It'd help if I had some," I say. I watch the hole slowly heal up before my eyes, something I'd gotten used to after being in the wasteland my whole life.

After a handful of seconds go by, she reaches to pull the strip from her mouth. I feel her eyes on me. I look at her face, complete bafflement is clear. _No longer pain at least._

"How did you do that?" she asks.

"Do what?" I ask back at her.

"All of that," she says. "You shot him between the eyes at a moment's notice. Plus, you helped me so quickly and calmly… with such ease… I'd think you were a doctor, not a mercenary."

"When you're a merc," I reply, "it comes with the territory. I had to learn to do that to stay alive. Also," I continue as I look at the bullet in my hand that pierced my boss, "what good are my caps if you're dead?"

As I'm putting my leather strip back, along with the souvenir bullet, I hear her say, "Beth."

"'Scuse me?" I feel my brows knit together in confusion.

"You asked earlier what you can call me. My name's Beth. Or Elizabeth for long," she chuckles. "But… don't call me that. Just Beth, okay?"

"Why not Elizabeth? That's a nice name," I say.

"Because I hate it. It never fit me. Ever. So call me that, and I'll frickin' kill you myself. That's if we don't find a yao guai or deathclaw first." She grins devilishly.

"Okay. Whatever you say, _Beth_." I smile back at her.

Leaving the spent Stimpak, some of Beth's blood, and the last Triggerman behind, we quit the premises and head back out into Goodneighbor.

I swear I hear Magnolia singing an encore from earlier as we pass by the Third Rail. _Must be drifting out from a subway grate or something,_ I think.

 _If you got style and you know how to please, and a smile that makes me weak in the knees. If you're a guy who is gentle and tough, you might be the man who's man enough._

* * *

 _A/N: And the new Beth is revealed. Maybe she'll have a voice soon, eh?_

 _Don't be afraid to review as you read_ _—even multiple times. Us writers enjoy reading reviews_ — _both positive and critical ones. It let's us know what the audience is thinking._


	4. 03 Spill the Beans

3\. Spill the Beans

Beth POV

 _Shelter from the Storm_ by Bob Dylan

It's been about two weeks since I hired MacCready down in the Third Rail. We'd spent nearly all that time just wondering the Commonwealth, getting to know each other—understanding how each other operates. I found out that he gets pissed off pretty easily, even at small things. Plus, I've noticed a weird habit of his: he can't swear—or rather, won't. Everytime he's about to, he cuts himself off and uses another word. I want to ask him about it, but he probably wouldn't tell me, so I guess I'll have to continue wondering about that.

Also, he keeps giving me this odd stare whenever he thinks I'm not looking. I really don't even know what to make of it. That's something else I'd like to ask him about, but don't know how. I have a feeling that this list is gonna grow before I can mark anything off it.

But for the time being, I really couldn't care less about any of that. I'm happy due to the interesting company for one, but mostly because of the bottle of rum we found after killing all the ghouls in Fiddler's Green Trailer Estates. When we first got here, he startled me by suddenly saying, _Always wanted my own trailer... it'd be midnight blue with a leopard-skin interior._ After receiving a surprised look from me, he continued with, _Hey... it beats living in a cave._ So, here we sit on the floor in one of those trailers. And since I'm on my third glass of rum, I'm curious enough about his comment to finally ask him.

"You know that thing you said earlier?" My words slur together ever so slightly. _I'm surprised my alcohol tolerance hasn't changed in all these years._

"Uh, what thing?" he asks, a bit tipsy himself. "We've been talking for…" He looks at his watch for a second. "I don't know. A while. What thing?"

"The thing about the trailer," I clarify.

"Oh," he laughs. "Yeah, what about it?"

"What made you want to have a trailer in the first place, but especially to have it like _that_?" I laugh myself.

"Oh, I don't know," he responds, pouring himself a fourth drink. "I saw some when I was younger, just leaving Little Lamplight. Thought it'd be cool. Plus, why couldn't I make it midnight blue with a leopard-skin interior anyway?" He refills my glass while he has the bottle. "That would so have been better than Lamplight."

"Lamplight?" I ask. "What's that?"

"Little Lamplight's where I grew up. Back in the Capital Wasteland. So, when I said that the trailer thing would beat living in a cave," he takes a drink, "I know what I'm talking about."

"So, you grew up in a cave?" I ask, trying to hide my chuckle and failing.

"Yeah, I guess I did. But, hey, it's not funny. You should try living underground for a while. It sucks." I can add another moment he's gotten mad over something small.

"Uh, I did." I wave at my blue vaultsuit.

"Oh, right. I forgot, _Vault Dweller_ ," he chuckles.

"Like seriously. How could you miss it? It's the brightest blue I've seen for a while," I chuckle along with him.

"So, you know," he says. "Sucks, right?"

I just scoff, my mood changing erratically from drunk and pleased to depressed in a split second. "Wouldn't know." I peer into my glass, as if that'd help my past be erased.

"But you're around my age. You have to remember it. Unless you were in a coma or something." He snickers again.

"Well, that's not too far from the truth." I grin into the glass sarcastically.

"Really?" He seems legitimately curious. "What happened?"

I sigh, not wanting to relive it, but I can't help but dive into that dark abyss due to the booze stopping my common sense from taking over.

"My family and I… we moved into Vault 111. Hear of it?" He shakes his head, so I continue. "It's up north of here. Anyway… We had no idea. They had these cryogenic pods, and they froze us in them… I was the only one to walk out of it. The pods—they failed or something. Everyone in the vault is dead. …But my baby… he—he got kidnapped. While I was still in the pod, I couldn't do anything but watch… and scream at them. And my husband—" My volume drops a bit at the end as I put my hand over my mouth in grief. I feel the wetness streaming down my cheeks at the memory of Nate. "…They shot him. Just left him there. I couldn't do anything but sit and watch as they killed him right in front of me." I bow my shoulders, my entire posture crumpling in mourning.

MacCready sets his glass on the floor and crawls over to my right side, putting his arm around my upper back. "I'm so sorry." He grabs my drink and sets it down right before it's about to slip out of my fingers.

My body suddenly takes over as I put my head on his shoulder, without my mind's consent. If I wasn't on the verge of being wasted, I'd be embarrassed about it, if I would have even done it in the first place. But in this moment, I really don't care. He takes it in stride, letting me take solace for a minute as he pats my knee, and says in a grave tone, "I know the feeling. Losing someone you care about." He shifts his weight a bit. "That's the worst thing about living out here. At least if I did live in a cave like when I was a kid, I wouldn't have to worry about deathclaws or Raiders. Ghouls… Any of that. I could just… live. That would've been nice…" His words trail off, going deep into thought, I'd guess.

"That is the worst part," I croak, my voice growing somewhat stronger after crying. "Although, it _all_ is really bad. I never would have imagined the world like this…" Now my own words trail off, my mind going back to October 23, 2077—the sirens, the bombs… the vault. I raise my head off his shoulder, deep in thought.

He interrupts my deliberation of the past with, "But you were in the pod for just a little while, right? You had to have known what it was like up here while you were just living in there before they froze you."

"I never lived in the vault—they only had quarters for staff. I was frozen the whole time." I sigh. "I really don't want to talk about it anymore." I stand up, grabbing my glass on the way. "I'm pretty tired. I'm gonna go find a pillow or something. Be right back." I take the last sip of my rum, setting my glass down on the way out.

Leaving the trailer—away from MacCready and his shadowing gaze—makes me feel vulnerable again. Like anything could jump out at me in this darkness and I'd die, plain and simple. Well over tipsy and unprepared, the fear gets the best of me. I make a mad dash to a trailer I see has a sliding door. I slide it aside and jump into the trailer in a matter of seconds, feeling safer as soon as I slide the door home and latch it. Staring at the lock for a few seconds, I feel satisfied enough to turn around finally.

I find myself face to helmet with a full set of T-51 power armour. Generally, I'd be happy to find it, and want to take it back to my house in Diamond City right away. But my emotions clearly aren't functioning properly, cause I could care less about it right now. Walking past it to a tan sofa, I push the skeleton siting on it into the floor and curl up into a loose ball. "Sorry, I wouldn't normally do that, but you don't need this anymore, and I kinda do, so…"

I close my eyes, hoping sleep will find me when I hear my name being called. I growl under my breath.

"Beth? Where are you?" _Sounds like MacCready._

I contemplate for a second if I want to answer or not. As I hear my name once more, I call, "In here!" The volume in my voice makes my head throb a little.

I hear noise coming from the door. _It's not hard to open a sliding door,_ I think bitterly. "Uh, door's locked or something," he says. _Jeez._ I huff as I stand and make my way to the door, unlatching it but leaving it closed. Turning back around I head toward the couch again, staggering slightly on the way. As he comes in, closing the door behind him, he watches me silently until I'm seated. "Little wobbly?" he asks. Turning my head to him, he sees the hard look in my eyes. _I don't feel like jokes,_ they say. Apparently, they haven't lost the redness either, from the look on his face.

I can feel his curiosity boiling over. Beating him to the punch, I just tell him. "It scares me out there. I felt exposed as soon as I left that trailer. I needed something more familiar. Like a door. So, I ran in here." I sigh. "Like the coward I am."

He steps in front of me, squatting down and keeping his balance really well for someone who just drank almost four glasses of rum. "You're not a coward. I think the past two weeks have proved that much to me." He catches himself as he starts to sway a little. "What're you scared of?" he asks lightly, looking between my eyes, trying to read me or something.

"To be honest? Everything. It's just so different now. I wasn't built for any of this. I haven't had the experiences out here to make it—something that people half my age _do_ have. I shouldn't have to even look for my child—I should be raising him at home right now, undisturbed by this…wasteland. And I'm definitely not supposed to be sitting here, crying in an old trailer park over my past life." _Great, here come the waterworks._ "I miss people. Not like the people these days, but just humanity as a whole. Wanting to go somewhere, so you just hop in your car and go—you didn't have to worry about dying on your trip. I miss my job as a lawyer, a housewife, a mother. I miss green _trees_ and _grass!_ " I stop myself there, hearing the hysteria in my tone. Plus, with all the things I miss about my old life, it'd take literally forever to voice them all. I'd said enough to make my point anyway.

MacCready had gotten awful quiet through my rant. I look up at him, and find his face looking extremely appalled. I realize he must not have known about that part of me. Piper had written that article from my interview when I first came into Diamond City. I figured with how her sister pushed the paper onto people, most would have read it by now. I guess Publick Occurrences doesn't reach far outside the Wall.

"Are you saying… you're _Pre-War_?" he asks, sounding almost ashamed to even utter the words aloud. "…What year were you born?"

 _Will he even believe me? But he did ask. Ah, screw it. Like it matters anyway._ "…2051. Biologically, I'm only twenty-six. Chronologically… I guess that makes me 236 years old." I decide that it sounds absolutely crazy, and if there are any running asylums still around, I should probably be committed to one right now. The eyes in his head have become giant, blue orbs, staring at me in disbelief. "So, I'm old now, I guess." I chuckle darkly. "Doesn't suck as much as my grandparents said it would, and I'm even older than them now. I knew they were full of it." My attempt at humour to lighten the mood seems to weigh heavy in the atmosphere as his silence persists.

He continues to stare at me for what feels like hours. _Either his eyes are about to explode from massive dryness, or I'm about to witness them fall out of his head. Can't decide which one, though…_ Finally, he breaks his silence. "That explains it." He relaxes his face to an understanding look, giving his eyes a break from all the extra added air exposure.

"What explains what? Aren't you freaked out?" I have to admit I was expecting a different response—like running… or my death at his hands.

"Not really. I was at first. But now I've put it together." He finally stands up, shaking blood into his feet from crouching too long. Sitting next to me on the couch, he continues, "The first time I saw you and the time you hired me… You were two totally different women. I haven't been able to figure it out." He sounds guilty as he laughs. "Sometimes I'd just look at you when you weren't looking and try to sort the pieces, but I haven't been able to."

"So, that's what you were doing!"

He chuckles again. "Yeah, that's it." He leans onto the back of the couch. "But I did notice a huge difference. When I pulled you aside in Goodneighbor, I was serious. I can understand you blowing it off, especially at the time, considering I was a stranger. But I did notice. And I get it now. When you said that night that you couldn't die—that you absolutely could not—it was because of your son. And you not wanting to tell me why, I _get_ that. You wanted to protect him."

"Exactly," I agree. "I mean, I just met you really, so I didn't know if I could trust you with my reasons."

He nods. "And before. You were so shy and innocent. So fragile in this world. Almost like you were made for a more delicate universe—one without violence, but love. Like Pre-War." He nods again. "I get it now," a grin rising to his lips, empathy in his eyes.

I try my best to grin back at him, but I feel like a grimace appears instead. He just laughs quietly, and stands up from the couch. "You still tired?" I shrug, not trusting my voice. "Go ahead and get some rest then." He leans against the wall to my right and slides down it onto the floor. "I'll stay up for a while and make sure the coast is clear." As I lay back down into a similar formation of my lose ball from earlier, he says, "Good night, Beth."

A bit of time had passed when I finally respond. "Good night, MacCready."

I'm not expecting an answer, so it startles me when I hear his voice. "Call me Robert. MacCready was my father's name." He snickers, "I guess it was. I never knew him. I've just always wanted to say that cause it sounded cool." I look over at him to see a small smile. _Child-like humor is the best kind,_ I think, grinning internally.

"Okay, then. Good night, Robert." A small smile reaches my own mouth as I recall only telling him my name after feeling comfortable with him.

I immediately float into a restful, dreamless night's sleep. Knowing I have someone to watch my back, and having someone know who I actually am—having spilt all my beans tonight—it makes me feel like a person again. Not a whole one, but more than just a vengeful shell of the woman I once was.

I can now at least say I have someone to trust on this side of the apocalypse.


	5. 04 In the Circle

4\. In the Circle

MacCready POV

 _Find You_ by Evan Duffy ft. Mitch Grassi (Zedd cover)

The past three weeks have been… interesting. To say the least.

At the start, I was a merc for hire. Hadn't had any clients in what seemed like ages. Then, in walks the blonde from the month prior. She'd made a complete one eighty—changing from a sweet innocent to a confident someone you didn't want to mess with. Roaming the Commonwealth with her seemed to prove that more than ever.

About two weeks into our contract, we had found ourselves in a trailer park with a bottle of rum as company. As both of us were nearing the edge of drunk, the subject of her past had gotten brought up. She talked about how she and her family were stuffed into little, individual freezers in Vault 111, and how she had been separated from her baby as her husband was killed before her eyes.

When it became too much to bear, she had rested her head on my shoulder. I was surprised—I'd only known her for a couple weeks. It made me uncomfortable at first, but then I remembered what it had felt like to lose somebody—how I wished I had someone to talk with—so, I let her stay there as long as she wanted. All I could really do was pat her knee—I really didn't know what to say to her.

But with the rum and raw emotions in her system, she had felt defenseless, and fled the trailer where we were taking refuge. I found her in a locked trailer after I got worried she'd taken off or something. After being let in, she ended up telling me that she's 236 years old. Never saw that one coming.

She talked about the things she misses from before the war. She described how horrific it was to come out of the vault and see the world with eyes anew. Her home was destroyed, everybody she knew was dead. The only comfort she had from before was her Mr. Handy.

It's been about a week since she told me all those things at the trailer park. And however improbable, I feel like we've gotten closer since then. It equally makes me happy and scared at the same time.

Even though we've been moving nearly the whole time this week, we're only at Walden Pond. We decided to stay here for a few hours to rest our legs. And since we've left Trailer Estates, I've noticed something on three separate occasions. We'll be walking and I notice she'll give me a sidelong glance. Seeing that I saw her look at me, she looks away as quickly as her head will allow her. I've been wanting to ask her why she's been doing that, but haven't figured out how to bring it up. And as if she has the ability to read my mind, she does it again—the fourth time this week.

Without putting too much thought into it, I just blurt out, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asks, trying to sound like she doesn't have the faintest idea of what I'm talking about.

"You know," I respond. "Look at me like that. Like you're trying to figure something out, but I keep catching you doing it, so you stop."

"I don't know," she says, looking at the wall above me as we sit across from each other in Thoreau's cabin. "Maybe you're just looking into it too much."

"I don't think I am," I say as I kick her foot lightly, finally getting her attention. She looks at me in an almost cowardly way. Trying for a light tone, as to not scare her, I ask, "Why won't you tell me? I'm just curious."

She looks down, pausing for a second. "Because I'm afraid to tell you." She sighs. "But since you've already noticed…" Looking back at me she continues, "I've been wanting to see if you're disgusted. I know I would be if I were you."

 _What can she possibly mean by that?_ "What?" I'm honestly confused.

"I figured you'd be disgusted." She repeats it like it's obvious what she means.

"Disgusted at _what_?"

"At _me_."

"At… you?" _What does she…?_ "Why would I be?" I'm completely baffled.

"Because I'm… I don't know." She shakes her head, looking down again. "Old? Weird?

"I'm an ancient artifact from a bygone era. I have memories of things like they were yesterday—things you've only heard about, if you have even heard of them. My life has been flipped upside down with so much family drama. Enough to start a reality show like my grandparents used to watch on the TV.

"Plus, I don't have experience out here. I'm a liability to have around. Any mistake I make could end my life… or yours. And the fact that you've stuck around this long after me telling you my past just… astounds me.

"I just know that if I were in your shoes—a young man raised in this wasteland, used to its ways, and doing well in life—I would not be able to handle me—a woman two centuries out of time, a broken housewife with nothing to call her own… I'd be absolutely disgusted at me, if I were you. So that is what all the looks have been about. I wanted to see if you seemed uncomfortable or grossed out by my presence.

"I wish I was better company for you, really. Instead of this drab, hollow shell that can barely stab her way out of a wet paper bag."

 _Is that what she thinks of herself? What encouragement I've been… Just say something. Anything._

"I'm… not sure what to say." _Really smart, you genius._

"How about a 'you're right, what was I thinking, I'll just be going now.'"

"Um, no. That's not a nice thing to say. And I wasn't thinking anywhere close to that." _Just spill it, you coward._ "I was wondering why you think that. Apparently, you don't see yourself very clearly."

"Well, those things are true." I can see the anguish in her eyes.

"I don't know about all of them," I say. "But I do know this. I know that you're very good and interesting company. You have stories and experiences that literally nobody else on this earth has. Even the few Pre-War ghouls that are left have different backgrounds and memories. Those are what make _you_ unique. And I know that you are a good fighter. Did you ever wield a knife or gun before the war?"

"No…"

"Then you're really good, Beth. Seeing you drop the first guy in the warehouse back in Goodneighbor was impressive. I had to remember to tell myself not to let my jaw hit the floor."

"That was three weeks ago…" she says, looking shocked. "I'm surprised you remember that."

"Kinda hard to forget," I say. "That was the first life I saw you take. And after seeing shy, quiet Beth, it kind of was something to see."

"Oh," is all she responds with.

 _Get it over with,_ I think. "So, that being said… I want to ask for your help." She looks at me like she can't believe what she heard. Continuing, "You've been pretty straight with me, so I'm gonna be straight with you.

"Those idiots that you saw hounding me in the Third Rail—Winlock and Barnes—they've been driving off all my clients since I jumped ship with the Gunners. I couldn't decide if should try to _pay_ them off or just… _'off'_ them. If I did try to pay them to leave me alone, who's to say they won't just take my caps and put a bullet in my head for good measure?

"They have a small army with them at all times, but if I could get the jump on them, they won't expect it, and it'd be so much easier. …And with two of us, it'd be a cakewalk.

"So I'm asking your for help. I normally don't open up like this, but… you're alright and I trust you. You're good people. You brought me into your circle by telling me about your past. It's about time I bring you into mine. If you want to be, that is. I understand if you don't want to help me with this, but if you do, I will not forget it. I always repay my debts."

For the longest time, she just sits there, thinking about it I assume. After staring holes into my face, she answers, "Let's go kick some bastard butt," and stands as if to leave.

"Right now?" I ask incredulously.

"Why not?" she asks in return.

"Because it's…" I look at my watch, "three in the morning. We haven't slept in a while. And don't we need supplies or something?"

"Who cares about sleep? Besides, it's the best time to go. _They're_ sleeping and it's dark. Plus, we have enough ammo to get at least a few kills," she says. "We can resupply as the death toll increases. Easy."

As I stand to join her walking out of the small cabin, I ask, "What happened to the gloomy, depressed attitude from a few minutes ago?"

"Gone now, I guess," she replies. "I know this really good pep-talker that can motivate even a guy in a van down by the river." She nudges my arm with an easy grin.

"You know I don't understand that reference, right?" I ask, grinning back at her.

"Oh, absolutely. I don't even really know myself." She laughs softly. "It was something my mom learned from her granddad when she was growing up. She passed it down to me. I guess it's one of those things you've always heard but never fully understood." She shrugs.

"Okay, old-timer," I say, earning a confused yet almost scared look. "It's _not_ gross," I say, reassuring her. "It's actually kind of cool. Knowing somebody from before the War that doesn't really look like brahmin jerky. Don't tell Daisy I said that, by the way. I like her too much for her to hate me." I chuckle slightly, relieved to hear Beth's light giggle.

As we keep walking south toward Mass Pike Interchange, she looks at me suddenly and says, "So, I'm in the circle now, huh?"

"I don't know," I respond sarcastically. "Are you?"

"Aren't I?" She questions with a worried look on her face. I can't help but to laugh.

"Yes," I agree. "You're in the circle. As long as I'm in yours." I give her a sideways glare of my own, mimicking her from the past week.

"I think it's kind of obvious I let you in at the trailer park," she looks at me with a look that says it was obvious that night.

"Just making sure," I reply. "So, are we on the road to becoming besties, or whatever it was you people called your friends?" She bursts out laughing the hardest I've ever heard her.

"Besties?" she asks, still laughing.

"I guess," I say. "Unless there was a different name for 'friend' that you'd prefer. I've just heard of that one before."

Still snickering, she says, "No, we can be besties if you want." Another light giggle escapes. "But here." She pulls on my arm to stop my walking. "It's not official until we make it official." She puts her fist out sideways with only her pinky finger extended.

I look at her hand in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with that?" I ask her.

Laughing again, she tells me, "Do this with your hand."

Putting my left fist in front of me, I copy her.

"That won't work! It has to be the same hand. I'm holding out my right, so you hold out your right." As she says this, she takes my right hand and puts it into the same position as hers, playfully slapping my left hand out of the way.

She wraps her pinky around mine while I stare at her like she's nuts. "Do it!" she encourages.

As I wrap my pinky around hers, she smiles at me. "It's official," she says, " _Now_ we're besties." Unwrapping her own hand from mine, she continues the walk south, leaving my confused face behind.

I jog catch up. "Was that some kind of bestie ceremony or something?" I ask, to which she laughs again. "Why is everything so funny?"

"Just never thought I'd hear the word 'bestie' again, least of all from you. Never even thought you knew that term."

"Hey, I know stuff!" I say. "You may be older, Miss Pre-War, but I'm not stupid."

She pauses a second, then says, "Ha, there it is again."

"There _what_ is again?" I ask grumpily.

"Your anger at small things," she simply responds.

Trying my best to get rid of the apparent attitude, I say, "I don't get mad at small things." After being pointed out, I can hear the pouty tone in my voice, accentuating her point further.

"Uh, yeah, you do. Like, all the time. It's kinda funny, to be honest." The smallest of grins appears on her lips.

"Well, I guess that part of my childhood stuck with me," I reply with a sigh.

"What else stuck with you, then?" she asks.

"Why would you want to know?" I question.

"Well, since I'm helping you with this thing, you know some stuff about me, and we're in each other's circles, it wouldn't hurt for me to know some of your backstory."

 _Damn, she has a point._ "Okay. Um… I used to have a bad swearing habit when I was younger."

"Seems to me like you still have it," she replies.

"I haven't sworn once since I started traveling with you," I clarify, a bit of my 'attitude' coming back.

"No, you actually haven't," she half-nods, half-shrugs, confirming this, and continues, "but I notice you stopping yourself and choosing another word instead. I've wondered why you do that but figure it's none of my business, so I never ask."

"You notice everything," I say in truth, although I'm partly stalling to answer.

"Well, I kind of had to notice things with my job. You're speaking with a licensed lawyer, Mister," she looks at me with a proud smile.

"Really? No shi—? Really?" I repeat, not knowing how to else to express my shock without the expletive.

"See?" She points at me. "Did it again. I don't care if you do. Just because I prefer not to swear doesn't mean you can't."

"Yeah, I know…"

"If you'd prefer not to tell me, I'd understand."

"Yeah. It doesn't really matter," I say. Pausing for the slightest second, I continue, "I made a promise to someone. A promise to try and become a better person. So, I try to curve my cursing habit. And I'll tell you it's not easy, having done it my whole life."

"That's noble," she says, after we walk in silence for a few seconds.

"Yeah…" I look down at my boots as I walk on, kicking a small rock out of the way.

I start to think of my son back home, being watched by the Lone Wanderer, Kate, and her husband, Butch. Duncan wouldn't be in Megaton in their care if I didn't trust them, but I'd give anything to have him well enough for me to be home.

"Hey." Beth touches my arm, gaining my attention at once. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?" I ask, confused.

"You didn't answer me the first two times, so I didn't know if your hearing went out suddenly or something."

I laugh, however convincing. "I'm fine. Had my mind elsewhere, I guess. What'd you want?" I shake my head ever so slightly to clear my thoughts.

She points ahead, "Aren't we getting close?" At the end of her finger lay Mass Pike Interchange, or at least what's left of it.

"Yeah, that's it alright." I spot a Gunner's logo on a yellow lift no more than two hundred meters ahead. "Are you _sure_ you want to help me with this?" I ask again.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here. You help me more than you know, so I owe you." She smiles at me with such innocence, there's no way she should exist in this post-nuked world.

I'm momentarily distracted by her stunningly white teeth before I respond. "Uh… you hired me to help you, so you don't owe me anything. This actually throws our 'debt' balance out of whack, so I'm gonna owe _you_ after this."

She turns her back to me, and starts walking toward the interchange again. "No, you won't."

"Yes, I will!" I argue, following behind her.

"Whatever!" she sings out.

* * *

We argued back and forth about debt from that point on the road to the very last second before we charged the interchange. She just wouldn't let it go. Two hours later, and we had the interchange completely void of all present and living Gunners.

When the last one drops, I turn to her, a mix of emotions on my face. "Well, we did it," she announces.

"Yeah," I say, blankly and in disbelief.

"They won't be bugging you now, at least. I guess it didn't matter that they drove your clients off before. I mean, I still hired you even after seeing them. And that was back when I was a chicken," she softly laughs, although I can hardly hear it. My head feels like it's swimming. I decide to sit down on the pavement before I fall down. Seeing me, she asks, "Hey, are you okay?" She comes over and kneels down next to me.

"Yeah," I repeat in the same drab tone as before.

"What's wrong?" she asks anyway, knowing this is not my normal behaviour.

"To be honest…" I start, "nothing." I think of Duncan's condition and correct myself, "Well, less than before." I look her in the eyes, letting her observe the relative calm in mine. "Do you know what this means?"

"That they won't be threatening you anymore," she says simply.

"It's more than that," I reply, my voice sounding more peaceful than it has in a long time. "I don't have to be on the lookout for them anymore. I can take jobs wherever and with whoever I want without having to think if it'll get me killed first. I don't have to keep my eyes open while I sleep anymore… Thanks to you." I guess she didn't expect the last three words, because she looks at me with rounded and surprised eyes.

"I could _not_ have done this by myself. I would have gotten killed if I even _tried_ to attempt this alone," I tell her.

"It's no big deal." She says this like it was a walk in the park.

"Kind of was," I disagree, pointing to where she had to inject a Stimpak to stop the bleeding from a laceration. One of the Gunners was wielding a knife and caught her off guard, cutting rather deeply into her left bicep. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to see him," I continue.

"You can't be everywhere at once, Robert. The Stimpak did just fine, so it is not a big deal." Her words started to get more pronounced at the end of her statement, showing her irritation at my argument.

"I feel like I need to be everywhere all at once sometimes," I laugh, however dark the reasoning behind my words. _First Lucy, then Duncan, now Beth. I need some Unstoppables powers or something._

"Don't we all," she responds. "Imagine being a fulltime lawyer and mother of an infant son."

"Well, I can't imagine the lawyer part."

"But you can the infant son part?" she asks, skeptically.

"Well, you know, when you grow up in a cave with a bunch of children… I mean, it can't be too far from that, right?" _How did I manage to save that?!_ I try to keep my face cool as to not make it obvious that was a way out of her question.

"Yeah, I guess so." She chuckles, apparently buying it. I sigh internally with relief. She stands from her kneeling position and looks down at me. "You ready to get out of here?"

I think for a second before responding, finally answering with a sound, "No." She looks down at me, confused. "I'm not ready," I clarify. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Of course." She sits down next to me where she was kneeling a minute ago, her brows knitted together in curiosity.

 _Just say it. You know you need to. You already started it, MacCready. You can't leave her wondering._ Taking a deep breath, I start, "It's been a really long time—seemingly forever—since anybody cared enough about me to help me with something this big—risking their own life to help the improvement of my own. Something you just did for me.

"Three weeks ago, we were complete strangers. We didn't know anything about each other. And yet we've bonded so much over these three weeks—it's unreal. I haven't been… this close… to anyone since I was little. It's a little unsettling, to be honest—but only because I'm not used to it. I'm not saying I don't like it. Cause I do." _Wasn't so hard to say was it?_ I try my best to ignore the voice in the back of my mind, and grin at her.

She smiles back at me, that easy smile of hers. Bright enough to warm the earth if the sun ever gave out on this wasteland. "If I were you, I would have gotten lonely by now. At least we have each other's company. I know I enjoy having you with me. Makes things interesting." Her smile turns into a smirk. _What is she thinking about? Wait, she likes me that much?_

"I… yeah. I, uh… I like your company, too," I stutter out. I can feel warmth spreading to my face. _Do not blush in front of her! She'll notice! She notices everything._ I try to continue as if I wasn't just mentally yelling to myself. "I guess that's why I feel comfortable with you. You're so easy to talk to and be around. I feel like you really care about me."

"…I do," she responds.

"And here." Digging into the pocket on my thigh, I grab a small pouch and toss it at her.

She snags it from the air. Hearing the sound from inside, she asks, "Caps? What're these for?" She inspects the bag closer, seeming to recognizing it.

"I told you I'd owe you after we took down Winlock and Barnes. I know, I know. You don't want to accept them. But too bad. Anyway, those are the caps you gave me back in the Third Rail. It's really the only thing I have to pay this debt." I put my hands up, seeing she's about to object. "But just because I don't have the money anymore doesn't mean you're not my boss. I'll still watch your back, as per our agreement. And if not for our contract, I'll stay with you anyway. I mean, we are besties now, aren't we?" That last question earned me a laugh, making me grin at her.

"We are," she agrees. After a short pause she asks, "Wanna take a break?"

"A break? From what?"

"Traveling," she clarifies. "We can go back to Diamond City and just relax for a while. After being on the move for… well, a long time, it'd be nice to rest these bones of mine."

"I don't have enough caps to stay at the Dugout," I say, pinching my brows together. "And I wouldn't expect you to pay for our rooms."

"Okay, one: _a_ room. We're not children, and it's not like we've had separate sleeping quarters out here in the wastes. People wanna talk? Let 'em. And two: we don't need to stay at the Dugout to begin with. I have a house."

" _You_ have a house there? I thought only rich and _Diamond City material_ people lived there." _How'd she manage that?_

"Are you saying I'm not Diamond City material?" she asks with a sneer. "So, I might have thrown a few names around to buy an empty house not too far from the noodle stand. No big deal."

"You know some of Diamond City's rich and famous." I ask with disbelief, not even sounding like a question.

"Oh, of course not," she replies. "I didn't say I'd have to know any of them to throw their names around. It all depends on how you sell it. Charisma has a lot to do with getting your way." She winks at me. "Law school 101."

She stands up and extends her hand out to me, offering to help me up. I gladly take it, expecting to be up and on our way. But, no. Either her strength is practically nonexistent, or I'm far too heavy for her. As I grab her hand and try to pull myself up, I end up pulling her down on top of me instead—she yelping on the way down. So, here we lay on the high level of the interchange like a stack of something I've heard her describe as pancakes before.

She looks a bit horrified until she feels me laughing, as indicated from the rumbling beneath her. Then she starts laughing, that carefree giggle I'm coming to hear more and more often.

Listening to her laugh, I can't help but think, _Oh, Beth—am I glad to have you in my circle._


	6. 05 Eighty-Seven Stories

5\. Eighty-Seven Stories

MacCready POV

 _In Repair_ by John Mayer

We walked by a vault on the way to Beth's house in Diamond City. Vault 81. She wondered if it had been exed like 111 had been, and we almost checked it out. But I convinced her she needed a break, like she'd said on the interchange. I was actually trying my best to keep her out of the vault, afraid she'd go ballistic or something. I didn't want her to relive her vault moments when she had said she wanted a break. I don't know why she didn't think of that herself.

Walking into Diamond City—I'd forgotten how rude the guards were. One said to Beth, _I'm keeping my eye on your merc friend._ How was that going to keep either of us from taking his sorry excuse of a life down? _If he's wary of me, he should keep his mouth shut_ , I'd thought. _Isn't that pretty much a rule?_ She just kept walking toward the noodle stand, ignoring the guard completely, although I know she must have heard him.

* * *

As we walk through a blue door, she announces, "Well, this is it." Looking up at the ceiling, the place seems pretty big. "Sorry there's next to nothing in it," she continues, grabbing my attention once again. "When I bought it, there was a ton of junk over here." She walks to the middle of the open space. "I had it scrapped—bought some furniture with the caps. So, I guess it's a good thing all that junk was in here."

As I look around the room more, I notice the room is _completely_ bare. "You bought furniture?" I ask. "Is it invisible or something?" I grin sarcastically.

"Oh, hush you," she replies. "There's more house this way." She walks to the right of the room, where I see a red workstation. "Since I'm hardly here, I haven't done anything with the big room. When I am here, I usually stay upstairs. So, why bother?"

Following her lead, I see a decent sized living room. It's fitted with a blue armchair, a tan couch, and a black loveseat. There's a painting on the wall, a light above the table in the middle of the seating. All sitting atop a worn out rug.

"I thought you said you hung out upstairs," I say.

"I do," she responds.

"Then why so fancy down here?"

"Is it?" She looks at her furnishings, as if she doesn't already know what it looks like.

"For me—for the wasteland—yes. Most places only look lived in if they are. Upstairs must be nirvana, then," I say with a chuckle.

"Well, go have a look and you tell me," she replies as she heads toward the couch. Sitting down, she says, " _Mi casa, tu casa._ "

Instead of heading up the small flight of wooden stairs—as I was about to—I look at her with my face scrunched up in confusion. "Sounds like you're speaking in another language."

"Because I am." The look on her face says she's surprised I didn't already know this. "Spanish?" she finishes, noticing my puzzled look.

"Never heard of it," I say.

"Wow. A _lot_ has been lost, huh?" she asks herself more than me. "It means 'my house, your house.' So, have a walkabout. Do whatever."

"Last time I was this welcome was in my own home," I say as I head up the steps. "Goodneighbor is not all that welcoming as they like to make people think."

Even though everything is nestled in the small space upstairs, it's cozy. A bed sits in the corner with a dresser at its foot. A cabinet hangs on the wall, a bookshelf with what seems like mostly intact books sits where railing really should be. If the shelf wasn't there, it'd be easy to _fall_ into the living room. A small nightstand sits by the bed, holding a couple books itself—pieces of paper hanging out of them, acting as bookmarks.

"I see why you stay up here now," I call to Beth as I descend from her oasis. "You like to read, don't you?"

"No," she says. "What could possibly make you think that?" A sly smile appears. "Always have. My mom used to take my books away when I went to bed. She said beds were for sleeping, not reading on top of under the sheets. Now, I can read in bed anytime I want and she can't stop me." Her smile disappears. "I guess she can't now anyway."

I try my best for a distraction. "So, you like stories? Or those educational kind of books?"

My plan works, as I see her sad expression turn into one of thought. "Uh, both. Depends if the story is good or if I'm interested in the textbook."

"Ugh, I don't know how you can read that kind of stuff." I sit on the black loveseat across from her. "I'm not really into the whole 'textbook' thing myself," I respond. "Joseph, a guy I grew up with in Lamplight, tried his best to teach us kids. Since I was mayor, I got out of it most of the time."

"Okay, a few things," she says as soon as my mouth is shut. "One, textbooks are great to learn from. Two, how were you mayor of a cave? And three, where did he get those books from?"

"Okay," I say, laughing a little. "One, I know textbooks are great to learn from. It's just not everybody is book smart, and I definitely was not as a kid. It was a learned behaviour for me. Two, Little Lamplight—the cave—was actually a small underground town for children—no mungos!" I add at the end, making her laugh. _Guess she remembered me saying what that meant a little while back._ "So, yeah. I was mayor of that town for a few years. And three, Joseph got his teaching stuff from Vault 87." _Sore spot bringing up a vault? Way to go, Robert._

"A vault?" she asks. "How'd a kid from a cave manage to get into a vault?"

"Well, it was kind of _in_ the caverns. There were a couple entrances we could use to get in. He used the closest one to the main part of Lamplight. Good thing the classroom was close. We all thought he broke the door on the way out." I chuckle, "He didn't, but anyway. Good job, Joseph."

"Why'd you say that it was a good thing the classroom was close?" she asks, her brows furrowed.

"Because of the mutants."

"You're joking with me."

"Nope."

" _Super_ mutants?" Her face starts looking more worried.

"Yeah," I respond.

"How did he manage to make it out alive?" Her voice is now high-pitched in disbelief.

"Miraculously, all the mutants were upstairs. They never saw him go in or come out. According to him anyway. He made it back with some material, but not as much as he wanted. Of course, the nerd." I roll my eyes. "He didn't risk making a second trip that day. He liked learning, but it wasn't to die for."

"So… let me get this straight. You lived in a cave. With a vault inside it. That _super mutants lived in?_ "

"That super mutants were _created_ in," I correct. "At least that's what my friend said."

She must be baffled, because she just sits on the couch, staring into space. Finally, she asks, "How did you kids stay alive the whole time you lived there?"

"We had guns and we weren't afraid to use them. They never bothered us anyway. Probably because we were kids. Too small for their liking."

She shakes her head, bewildered. "Wow," is all she says.

After a minute of thought, I ask, "Got time for a story?"

"About the vault?" She looks up at me.

"Yeah," I reply. "There's a good ending. So, you don't need to worry."

"If you say so, then sure." She settles back into the couch, expecting a whopper from the looks of it.

Leaning forward on the loveseat I start:

"When I was thirteen, I thought it was smart to escort another Lamplighter to Vault 87. Joseph was the one with me. It was almost time for him to leave Lamplight, as he was almost sixteen. He wanted to make sure the younger kids had more school material. We'd only been above ground a couple times—that was the scav team's job—and we didn't know where any schools were.

"And since we though Joseph had broken the door, we took Murder Pass—the other entrance to the vault. Being something neither of us had ever done before, we didn't know what to expect. I could have asked a friend of mine—she was adventurous and liked exploring dangerous places—but I didn't know where she was at the time. Joseph's birthday was coming up soon, and I didn't know how to find her. I'd spent little time topside—finding her in the Capital Wasteland outside Lamplight seemed impossible.

"So, into the vault we went. We knew damn well there were mutants living in it still. We could hear them from Murder Pass. We had it under full detail, not wanting the littler ones wandering off and getting themselves killed.

"When we got the guard to raise the gate, we proceeded toward the mutants, on high alert and with our guns raised. Within a minute of passing the gate, we had dropped at least half a dozen between the two of us. We didn't know where we were or where the classroom was, but we kept going.

"We had just gotten to the vault when a Brute comes around the corner, swinging his board at me. Joseph saw him and rammed me out of the way, taking the blow himself. I shot the Brute dead and turned to my friend. I asked him why he did it. 'Because you're more capable of making it to the classroom. The future kids need those holotapes. Go get them,' he said as he shoved my assault rifle back into my hands. 'I can handle myself.' He raised his own rifle as I marched on. He had a broken leg because he took the hit that was meant for me.

"Something I never fully understood: he saved me from getting struck with the board. I don't know why. I was mean to everyone. I was the neighbourhood bully. Being older than most kids wasn't the only thing that gave Joseph his teaching title. Everybody loved him. I don't even know why I was voted to become mayor in the first place. Just because I punched Princess in the nose?"

"You punched Princess in the nose? Who and why?" Beth asks me.

"Princess was her name—well, nickname. We all had nicknames in Lamplight. Her name was Angela. She wanted to be ruler in the cavern, and that upset me. So, I punched her, saying that the kids needed a leader, not a princess. The kids made me mayor after that. Guess they liked my way of doing things." I shake my head. "Stupid—kids voting for a violent person."

"Kids usually like violence. So, no surprise there. Okay, continue," she says, giving me the floor.

"So, yeah. I left Joseph there. Made my way to the classroom and got the holotapes he was wanting. I put them in a bag I borrowed from—" _Lucy._ "…a friend." I decide to pause for a bit, not trusting my voice. _I forgot all about this._ Beth interrupts my thoughts.

"Was there any resistance in the vault? And what about Joseph?" she asks, curious and slightly worried, from the look in her features.

I realized I'd looked away from her, toward the wall to her left. Looking back at her, I try to continue. "There were some. I killed them on the way in." I clear my throat, feeling a lump starting to rise in it. "I went back for him. He had killed a couple while I was gone. I put his arm around my shoulder and helped him back… to the doctor. …She patched him up. Besides that, we were fine. Lucky, really. A couple of kids, walking into a den of super mutants. One coming out with only a broken leg, the other, fine. We _were_ lucky."

Out of all that, Beth comments on the only part I'd prefer she not. "You had a doctor in Little Lamplight?"

"Yes," I curtly say.

She can read my subtle hostility, because she asks, "Sore spot?"

I sigh, thinking. Finally, I respond, "Yeah…"

With an understanding smile, "Okay." She shifts her weight from her left to her right side. "Tell me more about the vault. You said they _made_ mutants there?"

I appreciate her attempt at changing subjects. "Yeah, they did. Apparently, they took humans there and injected something called the Forced Evolutionary Virus into them. It would either change the humans into one of them, or it would go wrong and kill them altogether. According to that one friend, anyway."

"Boy, your friend got around, huh?"

"You can say that," I chuckle a little, still trying to shake _her_ from my mind. "Her name's Kate. She's from a vault, too."

" _Really?_ "

"Yeah. I kinda freaked out when I saw you the first time. I hadn't seen a vaultsuit or Pip-Boy since I saw her last. But, yeah. Vault 101. Born and raised right there in the Capital Wasteland. Her husband, Butch, is also from 101. They live in a town called Megaton now, not too far from the vault."

"They must visit often, then," Beth remarks.

"Nah," I reply. "They got kicked out. Something to do with her dad and a revolt or something. Never got the full story. I should ask her sometime."

"So, you still talk with her?"

"…Yeah, sometimes. When I get the chance to." I think about the few times she wrote me, asking questions about Duncan: what he likes to eat, if it's normal for him to sleep a long time… how she's going to explain why I've been gone so long. Beth once again interrupts my thoughts.

"Is she the friend you talked about earlier? The adventurous one?"

"Yeah, that's her alright. Sometimes, she and Butch would just visit because they were bored. They'd come all the way to Lamplight from Megaton or Rivet City—that's really far to walk just because you're bored." I laugh a bit.

"I wouldn't know. I mean, I've been to DC before, but not recently, so Megacity and Rivet Town are new to me."

"Mega _ton_ and Rivet _City_ ," I correct.

Laughing, "Same thing!" She says, "Well, I'm sure there's more than just that one story." She looks ready for another one, but I've had enough.

"There are, but I'm getting kinda tired. I think I wanna try to get some sleep," I say. I'm pretty much just wanting to stop with the Lamplight stories, afraid _she'll_ get brought up again.

"Oh. Okay," Beth says, seeming shocked at my sudden fatigue. "I'm going to go read, then." She stands up, looking back at me as she nears the stairs. "I just have the one bed." She looks apologetic.

"No big deal," I say. "I can kick it here." I try stretching out on the black loveseat, finding it is _way_ too short. Moving to the tan couch, I add, "Or here. It's longer." She laughs at that.

"Okay, then." She walks up the stairs. I hear a bit of clanking coming from her room, and a few seconds later she comes back down the stairs. Walking over to me, she hands me a pillow and a blanket. "Those are the best I have," she says. "I _think_ that blanket is long enough." I unfold it to show its length of about six feet. "Yeah, that should do it." As I put the blanket over my arm, she smiles and says, "Well, goodnight, Robert." She again turns to go to her room.

"Goodnight," I reply as she's already halfway up the steps.

A few minutes later, after I'd taken off my cap and duster and laid down on the couch, Beth speaks again. Faintly, "Hey, Robert?"

"Yeah?" I respond.

"Remember that thing I said in Spanish earlier? 'My house, your house?'"

"Yeah."

"Well… welcome home."

With it _feeling_ like home, and memories of Lucy in the back of my mind, I fall asleep.

* * *

 _A/N: Home Plate really never felt like home to me, so I don't know what they're on about._

 _Anyway, I hope you're enjoying it so far. There's just a few more chapters, I swear. *giggles maliciously*_


	7. 06 A Night for Dreaming

_A/N: Usually, the paragraphs in full italics represent dreams or a memory from the past in my fic. Keep that in mind. Just sayin'._

* * *

6\. A Night for Dreaming

Beth POV

 _Dark Paradise_ by Lana Del Rey

 _Codsworth is going to town in the kitchen making breakfast for us. He said he's making stew later tonight for dinner, and Nate is excited for it, stew being his favourite dish. I don't understand why it is, though. He had packaged stew when he was in the military all the time, it seems like he'd be tired of it by now._

 _Walking out of the bathroom, I come to a hot cup of coffee Codsworth had brewed for me. "Thank you," I tell our robotic butler, taking a sip of the sweet, brown nectar._

 _"My pleasure, mum," he responds in his programmed British accent. Nate didn't like that about him about we bought him, but I think he's warming up to it now._

 _Nate sits on the couch, watching the news on our television set and drinking his own coffee. "Good morning, hon." He stands, setting his mug down on the counter and gives me a kiss._

 _"Good morning," I reply with a smile when he lets me go. "How're you today?"_

 _"A bit nervous for the speech later," he admits._

 _"Don't worry, dear. You're going to knock 'em dead at the veterans' hall tonight. You have nothing to worry about."_

 _Codsworth floats by, moving his eyestalk to look at us as he passes. "Sounds like someone has a stinky," he comments on Shaun's cry. "Enjoy your coffee, sir—mum. I can handle this." He disappears into Shaun's room._

 _Nate grabs my attention again when he caresses my arm. "I was thinking about going to the park later before the ceremony. What do you say we bring Shaun and have a picnic?"_

 _"Do you think he really needs a sibling this soon?" I laugh. "He's not even one year old yet. Maybe we should hold off on 'park visits' for a little while." He just laughs and kisses me again._

 _"Breaking News," the TV rather shouts out. "We have breaking news!" Moving away from each other, Nate and I both turn to the TV. "We have reports coming in. Stand by…" We look at each other, not knowing what's going on. "There has been an explosion," the anchor continues, "followed by flashes—blinding flashes. We've lost contact with our affiliate stations."_

 _I turn to Nate. "Go get Shaun!"_

 _"We have confirmed reports… I do repeat, confirmed reports of… nuclear detonation in New York and Pennsylvania… My God." The TV goes out. The power goes out._

 _Nate comes running in, Shaun in his arms. "What's going on?! What did he say?"_

 _"Bombs were dropped in New York and Pennsylvania," I repeat the news anchor in a grave tone. "We need to get to 111!" I remember the vault that was practically built in our backyard._

 _"We can't get in," Nate says, his voice nearly inaudible. "I didn't sign the papers when the rep came by last week. Why didn't I sign them?" he asks himself. "I didn't think this would be happening…"_

 _"So, there's nothing we can do?!" My voice is starting to get hysterical. Shaun starts crying again from my high pitch and volume._

 _"No." I can only read his lips now, his voice has given out altogether, a single tear rolling down his cheek._

BOOM! _An explosion goes off. It sounds close to us, rattling the entire house Nate just stands there looking at Shaun, the tears rolling freely down his face now. I move to the window and see a cloud a few miles wide—and scarily close to Sanctuary Hills—rising from the ground. A mushroom cloud…_

There's nothing we can do but die now, _I think darkly. With a few threads of hope still, I grab Nate's shirt sleeve and yank him as hard as I can to the laundry room, forcing him to sit on the floor with me. A few seconds later, all the windows shatter from the blast. Shaun is now wailing, although I can't hear it due to the impact leaving me deaf. I feel the side of my face and find that my ears are bleeding profusely._

 _I look to my husband, sitting there as if nothing had happened—he's in shock. I can tell he got hurt, but he shows no signs of feeling the pain. Shaun starts to cry less and less until he falls still, mirroring his father. And, as if a higher power snapped their fingers to make it so, they both fall over, dead. Nate has loosened his grip on our son, and his blanketed-burrito form goes rolling across the floor. He's no longer breathing. He no longer cries. I look at my husband, and find his chest no longer shows the rise and fall as breath fills him with life._

 _Both my husband and son, gone. While I sit on the floor, staring at their lifeless bodies._

 _I can feel the radiation, seeping into my body, changing me. I look at my arms, my hands, as they shrivel and the skin starts to fall off. I scream at the top of my lungs, knowing my life will never be the same. If I'm even damned enough to live through this hell…_

I jolt up, breathing very hard, a loud scream lingering in the air. I'm in the bed in my house in Diamond City. I notice a figure moving to my right. Jerking my head in that direction, I see Robert on the stairway, almost standing in my room. He looks as if he had a rude awaking, his hair a mess, his eyes tired.

"Beth?" He looks worried, his voice full of sleep. "Is everything alright?"

I think for a minute, nodding when I decide I can't trust my voice, my breathing still heavy.

"Okay… Just making sure. Haven't heard anybody scream bloody murder in a while. Kinda freaked me out—especially in the middle of the night. Bad dream?" he asks. I nod again. "Yeah… I get those sometimes." He looks down at the floor, thinking about something from the shape of his features. Looking back at me, "Well… try to get back to sleep." He turns to go back downstairs.

"Robert," I find my voice. He spins around. "Stay with me?" His face looks slightly surprised for some reason. "I can't be alone right now. Not after feeling… that."

"Of course," he says, walking over to me. As I scoot over in the bed giving him room, his face becomes a bit more shocked. But without saying a word, he slides in next to me.

Feeling utterly safe after waking up from the nightmare, my head moves of its own accord, much as it did in Fiddler's Green Trailer Estates. After resting my head on his bicep, Robert moves his arm above my head so I have full access to his chest. Without even fully thinking it through, I move my head there instead, curling up into a loose ball against his side, casually putting my arm over his torso.

 _Is this wrong?_ I think to myself. _I used to curl up like this with Nate. Seemingly not even a year ago. But this feels so natural. Is it because I miss being embraced by a man? Or is it because… I like Robert?_ Halfway through the last thought, I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, feeling completely safe and happy for once.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Dark Paradise_ by Lana Del Rey

 _She wears a white gown from another era. Her wavy brown hair is halfway down her back, her hazel eyes as bright as I remember them. She's smiling._ At who? _I think. As if she can hear me, she answers, "I'm smiling at you, RJ." My eyes go wide in disbelief._

 _"This can't be real_ , _"_ _I whisper. "She's been gone for almost four years."_

 _"Has it been that long?" she laughs. "Doesn't feel like it. Duncan's growing up, isn't he?"_

 _"Wish you were here to see him yourself…" I frown, "Maybe you could be with him right now while I'm down here in the Commonwealth."_

 _"He's with good people. And you're doing everything you can to help him."_

 _"Sometimes I wonder…" I say._

 _"He's in good hands. But Duncan's not the reason I'm here." I look up at her face, realizing my eyes had drifted. "I'm here for_ you _."_

 _"Me?" I say in an astounded tone. "Why me?"_

 _"You need to know something, Robert. And I'm only telling you once, so listen up." She sounds like when we were kids—not taking any crap from anyone. "This woman you've been with. I can tell. I know the look in your eyes you have when you're looking at her." Her face softens. "You love her," Lucy concludes._

 _For once, I'm speechless. I always have a comeback—but not this time. I don't know whether I should tell her she's wrong… or just accept that she's right. Avoiding both of those options, "But I love_ you."

 _"My time is over. It's her time." Her brows knit together. "Don't waste it, Robert Joseph. You never know when it'll be too late."_

I wake up with a start, finding myself lying on Beth's couch. My eyes search the room, looking for any signs that my dream was real. I come up empty, almost disappointed, although I know it couldn't have possibly been real.

As I close my eyes again, I hear a scream from upstairs. Not a normal scream, but one of utter terror. I jump off the couch and bound up the steps within seconds, finding Beth straight as a ramrod in her bed, breathing very heavy. I climb one more step toward her, trying to make sure she's not hurt. Seeing my movement, she quickly moves her head toward me, her eyes wild and scared.

"Beth?" I ask. "Is everything alright?" She looks like she's been crying in her sleep, some hair stuck to the wetness on her cheek.

She looks down for a second then nods.

"Okay… Just making sure. Haven't heard anybody scream bloody murder in a while. Kinda freaked me out—especially in the middle of the night. Bad dream?" I ask, to which she nods again. "Yeah… I get those sometimes." My eyes drift to the floor, and I think of the dream I just had. I try to think if I would consider it a nightmare or not. I look back at Beth's startled face. _Guess I should let her be by herself now._ "Well… try to get back to sleep." I turn for the stairs.

"Robert," I hear behind me. Turning back around, I look at her face again. It's slightly less scared now, and nowhere near as wild-eyed. "Stay with me?" she asks—surprising me. "I can't be alone right now," she continues. "Not after feeling… that." Her eyebrows pinch together.

I know how nightmares work. They leave you feeling scared, angry, alone—along with other negative emotions. I don't want her having to face these by herself, since I know them all too well. "Of course," I reply without much thought, walking toward her. As I wonder if I'm to sit on the floor, she scoots over in her bed, giving me room. This, too, surprises me. But she made her intent clear, so I wordlessly slip in next to her.

As she did back in the trailer park, she rests her head on my arm. Completely understanding she needs support, I move my arm above her head and out of the way. Without saying anything, she moves her head onto my chest, and a second later places her arm over my stomach. She easily curls up against my side, and I find that I'm pleased with this.

 _Is this wrong?_ I think to myself. _I love and miss… Lucy,_ I force myself to think her name. _But… I can't ignore this._ I look at Beth's head, lying on me. _Whatever kind of relationship I have with her is as easy as breathing._ I start to hear a light snore from my side, and smile. I lightly place my hand on her side, feeling the pulse of life as air enters and exits her lungs. _She's here_ now, _and… I can't ignore my thoughts and… feelings for her._ Actually admitting I have feelings for this woman, even to myself, is a big step. _I need to tell her—but how?_ I think, but come up short, my fatigue overwhelming me. However, I feel immensely relieved. I look up at the ceiling, _Wherever you are, Lucy… Thank you._

I fall asleep for the second time tonight. This time, happy and at peace, with Beth by my side.


	8. 07 Dark Past Relived

7\. Dark Past Relived

Beth POV

 _Let Me Sign_ by Robert Pattinson

I wake up in my bed in Diamond City, and the first thing I register is warmth. The second thing I feel is the sensation of… not being alone. My eyes snap open to find I was right.

MacCready is snoring rather loudly next to me. Well, not next to me as much as under me. I'm practically woven into his ribcage on the side, but my head and arm are resting on top of him. I also note that his hand is resting ever so lightly on my side. _How did this happen?_ I wonder. Then I recall the dream I had shortly before I woke up.

I screamed myself awake from a nightmare as Robert was coming up the stairs. I'd asked him to stay with me, and that somehow resulted in us being wrapped up in a position just like this.

Realization: that wasn't a dream—that actually happened last night. _No wonder the dream felt so real. It was._ I'm not freaking out as much as I think I should be, and I find myself oddly being okay with how it ended up.

I start pondering on how I'm going to _get_ up. _Should I just stay here until he wakes up? It might be a while, if his snores are any indication. Should I wake him?_ I decide against the former thought, and try to move his hand off of my ribcage without waking him, but his snores start sputtering so I stop. _Well, crap._

I decide it wouldn't be such a bad idea if I don't start my day right away. _What's one day off?_ I ask myself. _I did want a break after all._ So, I continue to lay here by Robert, and I start thinking about various things, all the while enjoying the presence of another human being.

 _I'm kinda hungry. Wonder if he is. I should get some breakfast ready. Nah, I'll do it later when we're both up._

 _Wouldn't be too bad of an idea to go back to Kellogg's house and see if I missed anything. Might should check up on Nick, too. Haven't seen him in a while. Hope he's doing okay._

 _Boy, what a dream last night. I hope I never have one like that again. It was so disturbing. I'm glad Robert checked up on me. That was sweet of him. I'm glad he stayed, too. But…_

 _Did he think it was weird of me to ask him to sleep next to me last night? I mean, he didn't say no, and he didn't even take that long to make up his mind. So, I guess he was okay with it._

 _And that face he had when he said he sometimes has nightmares, too. What kind of nightmares does he have to cause such a face of anguish?_

Right then, his snoring cuts off to a mumble of sorts. He sighs, then moves a bit, stopping only after he realizes I'm here. His breathing stops for a second, just long enough for him to open one of his eyes and look down at me. His breathing continues after he closes it again just to snap both open and do a double take. His eyes are wide as they look at me, surprised to find me here. "Good morning," I say, struggling not to chuckle at his face—as it's quite comical. He moves the hand that's not on my side still, and touches my face—his touch feather soft, as if he's afraid I'll poof into a cloud of smoke.

He sighs and smiles faintly, "Good morning." He takes the hand he touched my face with and tucks it behind his head, holding it up. He says nothing more. _Does he feel awkward right now?_ I wonder. _I should be feeling awkward. Why aren't I?_ I decide to be the first to speak.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

Looking to the "third story" of the house, he shakes his head. "Nah." Nothing else.

I clear my throat, getting the sound of sleep out of it. I try again for small talk. "I was thinking about just staying around here in Diamond City for today, if that's okay with you. I have to buy some ammo and check on a few things."

He shrugs the shoulder on the opposite side of me. "Doesn't matter to me. I'm fine with that." Nothing else.

The silence grows longer, and my mind starts wondering into darker places. _Does he wish he didn't stay? I'm pretty sure I went to sleep before he did. What was he thinking about that whole time? He probably thinks I'm pathetic, asking him to sleep next to me—_

"What're you thinking about?" he asks suddenly. Shocked, I look up at him from my resting place on his chest to find his eyes boring holes into my face.

I look down, away from him. "Nothing," I say in a rather convincing tone.

"You're thinking about something," he says. "I could see some of your face still, and I've become accustomed to you. You're pretty transparent to me now."

Reluctantly, I say, "I was thinking that you probably regret it."

"Regret what?"

"Staying with me last night," I clarify.

"You think I regret it?" His voice is so full of sadness that I look again at his face to see if his expression matches it. It does.

"I don't regret it," he says, matter-of-factly. "I'm glad I did, and I'd do it again." Seeing the confusion on my face, he continues. "You had a nightmare, Beth. I know how they are. All too well… I know how they leave you feeling when you wake up from them. Your scream… was full of torture. I wasn't sure if you were being murdered or not.

"I didn't want you to be alone in the first place, cause nothing is worse, but when you actually asked me to stay… How could I have said no? If I can help you any, I'm going to do it, no matter what. I… care about you, Beth. And I hate to see you hurt, no matter the form of pain."

He's so sincere. It touches me and makes me feel thankful for him. I take the arm that's still slung over his stomach, and give a light squeeze—a hug of sorts. "Thank you," I say with utmost gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He pats my side with his hand that's lying there. "Same. By this point, I don't know how _not_ to be with you."

"Good," I say with a chuckle.

A few seconds later, he says, "Okay, I was lying. I am hungry." We both laugh.

"Okay. Let's go get something to eat at the Dugout. Noodles aren't my favourite in the morning."

"No?" he asks sarcastically, dropping his hand from my ribs as I practically untangle myself from him.

"Nah." We both get up from the bed, stretching out our muscles and joints.

"Man, we didn't move at all, you know it?" He pops his shoulder with a groan, sore from being stretched around me for most of the night.

"Sure didn't," I reply, stretching my legs out from being bent for too long. "Not at all."

* * *

We spent an hour at the Dugout Inn, eating our breakfast and talking about random things. We never brought up the nightmare I had or the ones he's had in the past. While we were eating, Arturo opened, and we hit him up for all his .45 ammo. Then, we went to see Nick. We spent almost two hours catching up, and Nick spent nearly half of that trying to pick Robert's brain, seeing if he's "a good travel partner" or not. He had a weird look in his eye as soon as I told him we'd been traveling together for a while now. We proceeded to Kellogg's house after we finally managed to escape Nick's probing eyes. We didn't find anything I hadn't seen before, but it almost felt good, knowing I was in the place my son was recently in. We stopped by and said hello to Piper, her features looking just about the same as Nick's had when I introduced Robert. _Why can't I have a traveling partner without it being weird?_ I thought. _They thought nothing of it when it was just Dogmeat and I._ I decided to let it go after my brain started hurting due to their reasoning.

* * *

After visiting Nick, Ellie, Piper, and Nat, as well as scouting Kellogg's house, we are ready to go home and relax. As we walk in the door and I sit on the couch and he the blue armchair, he asks without any ire to his voice, "So, what's their deal?"

"What's who's deal?" I ask.

"Well, all of them, really. But mainly Nick and Piper. Why were they asking me all those questions? I mean, aren't you capable of picking a companion without their assistance?"

I chuckle, "Yeah, I am. Maybe they're just protective. They know I'm 'not from around here,' so I guess they're making sure I didn't just pick up a random guy."

"You didn't pick a random guy. You sought _me_ out, remember? It's not like I came to you and was like, 'Hey pretty lady, take me with you.'" _Pretty lady?_ I think.

I pretend that part didn't stick out to me as I say, "Yeah, I did hire you myself. Guess they think my judgement is poor or something." I shake my head. "I was a lawyer. I'm pretty sure I can tell a straight up person from a criminal."

He shrugs. "I'm not trying to say you can't, but wasn't that before the bombs? People are a hell of a lot different these days. Most 'innocent' girls have killed people—whether they wanted to or not. I mean, what told you that I was straight up anyway?"

I think for a minute and come to a conclusion. "I have no idea."

"That was pretty risky, then," he says, raising his eyebrows. "I could've taken your money and ran. That's if I didn't kill you first. Most people would've. A young, naïve woman like you. I'm surprised no one had by the time you found me."

"Well, I guess I did have my reservations about you," I recall not trusting him enough to tell him about Shaun for a long while. I didn't even want to go into an alleyway alone with him in Goodneighbor when he wanted to talk. "I don't know why I didn't trust you, though. To be honest… it's almost like I felt a positive vibe about you when we first met. Like I knew you were good. That having you on my side would be a wise decision. Almost like a premonition." I chuckle a bit. "And I never have those, so I just rolled with it, I suppose."

He looks like he's thinking. "Yeah, I can kinda say the same," he responds. He pauses for a minute, and I swear I see a faint rose hint to his face. "I always knew there was something about you, from the moment I saw your head peek around the corner in the Third Rail. Then you told me about your past, and I knew that was it—why you were different. You weren't made to live in _this_ world, but you're staying afloat, actually swimming at blinding speed. Hell, you're practically treading the water by now, you're doing so well. I didn't think you would do that good back at the interchange, if I'm being completely honest. It was surprising to see you kill most of them—I feel like I was just there to cover you, not to help you in equals. I trust you with my life. I did before, but especially after that. I know that if I'm ever in a jam, I can count on you…

"Which is why I need to talk to you." I shift a bit on the couch, anticipating to hear the rest. I'm not sure what he's about to say, and it makes me nervous. Much as the infamous "we need to talk" always has.

"Okay." He sighs and straightens up in the chair, thinking about where to start. Taking a deep breath, "I haven't told you that much about me. Especially in comparison to everything I know about you. That isn't fair, and I'm sorry. I just haven't been ready to tell you yet.

"I come from the Capital Wasteland, you know that much. I've told you a bit about living in Little Lamplight, and Vault 87. But that's just about as far as I've gone, right?" I nod. "Well, that's not everything, as you've probably presumed."

"I figured," I say. "I didn't tell you anything until I felt ready. Although it probably had something to do with the rum. But, I wanted you to tell me on your time—I didn't want to pry."

"And I appreciate that," he says. "I haven't felt ready… until now.

"Back when I left the Capital Wasteland, I didn't just leave my home behind… I left my family behind. I had a beautiful wife named Lucy. And a son we named Duncan. He's the one I made my promise to—to not swear, to be a better person… And… he's sick. I—I don't know what's wrong with him." I hear a tone I know very well: a parent worried half to death about their child. I've heard it in Nate's voice when he heard our baby cry for the first time, I hear it in my voice everytime I talk about Shaun nowadays. Robert continues, "He was just running around the lot behind my house when he fell down suddenly. The next morning, he was covered in blue boils of some sort. Last time I saw him, he was almost too weak to even walk…

"There's a guy that said his friend was sick like Duncan is, and that there's a cure in the Med-Tek research lab. I went there a while back but was ran off by ferals. Do you think you could help me get in there?" His voice is shaky and there are tears lining his eyes, threatening to overflow. _He really cares for his son_ , is my first thought.

"Of course." My tone is firm, absolute. "We leave first thing in the morning."

The tears spill over, flowing down his cheeks. "Thank you." He comes over to the couch and sits down, hugging me. Remembering the talk of his wife, I'm hesitant to hug him back, but I still do.

After he lets go and leans against the back of the couch, I ask, "I know you're worried, but I'm sure he's okay back in DC. I mean, your wife is taking care of him, so that's good. At least he has the comfort of his mother."

He looks at me then away, a seemingly new batch of tears fall. "She's been gone for almost four years," he says.

I feel my face falling into the lose shape of an _O._ "I'm sorry. I had no idea." I think of what I just said: _At least he has the comfort of his mother._ "I'm so sorry," I say again, not knowing what else _to_ say.

He sniffles, still looking away from my face. "You think I'd be better by now, her being gone for this long. But it still hurts. I still see her. I have nightmares about her death.

"We had no idea there were ferals in the metro we were staying in…" His face crumples. "Took everything I could muster to just get Duncan away." He squeezes his eyes shut, no doubt reliving the moment. _I can't stand this,_ I think. _It's one thing for me to feel like that, but he's just a kid._

I scoot over toward him, wrapping my arms around him. "I'm sorry," I repeat. I can feel him sobbing lightly, grieving his wife's death. He wraps his arms around me also, accepting my comforting embrace. We sit here like this—us _both_ baring his sorrow—for a good half hour until he cries all of it out. I don't dare let go of him.

Still holding on to me, he says, "Thank you, Beth," and kisses the top of my head. We let go and sit there looking at each other.

"It's almost bedtime anyway," I start, "but I think I'm going to bed now." I stand up. "We have big plans in the morning." I smile gently.

"I can't thank you enough." He stands and gives me a goodnight hug. "Let's hope that cure's there."

"It better be," I say in a slightly aggressive tone. "If it's not, I'm gonna cut a bitch." He laughs a little bit, his eyes still red.

"Goodnight, Beth," he takes off his duster and hat and starts to lay down on the couch.

"Goodnight, Robert." I turn to go up the stairs only to stop and turn back to him. "I know it was difficult… to tell me all that. Trust me… But I really appreciate it. More than you know." He nods his head.

I climb into my own bed, hoping he doesn't have another nightmare about Lucy. But if he did, I'd be there in a heartbeat.


	9. 08 Ghoulish Ventures

8\. Ghoulish Ventures

Beth POV

 _Stand By Me_ by Ben E. King

I wake up to the sounds of something scurrying about. When I get up, I see why. Robert is pacing back and forth in the living room. When he notices me coming down the stairs, he doesn't turn or even look at me. He just offers a quiet, "Morning," and continues his pacing. I stand here at the foot of the stairs, watching him for a little bit. He has his left arm crossing his body, holding up his right arm—his right hand placed on his chin as he stares at the floor in front of him.

I move over to him and put my hand on his arm after watching him turn around and come toward me. He stops, looking up at me finally. "We'll find it," I say.

"…I hope so." His face shows sadness, as if he sees the task impossible.

"How long have you been up?" I ask, looking at the couch, it appearing to have been abandoned after hours of tossing in it.

He looks at his watch, blinking as if he can't get a read. "I don't know," he finally says. "A couple hours? I couldn't sleep very well last night." He turns to resume his pacing. "Had another dream—it woke me up."

Grabbing his arm again on the way back, I look at his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I had one a lot like it the other night. It wasn't a nightmare. Just… different." His brows furrow, and I feel he doesn't want to expand on what he means by that.

"What time is it?" I ask. He looks at his watch again. Still not able to see the numbers clearly, he shakes his head in annoyance and practically heaves his arm at me. "It's almost 4:30," I tell him after looking at the face of his watch. "The sun's gonna start to rise soon. We can leave right now if you want. It's a bit of a walk."

He looks at me, his eyes bright suddenly. "Right now?"

"Yeah, why not? Med-Tek isn't exactly close, and if we don't, you're just going to wear yourself out pacing like this. Might as well put that energy into the walk there, right?"

As soon as the sentence is out of my mouth, he's pulling his duster and hat on. "Let's go, then."

"Well, I have to get a few things together first," I explain. "Ammo, some food, meds… some armour," I say looking down at my vaultsuit that I now constantly live in.

"Tell me what to grab," he says. "The more I help, the sooner we leave. The sooner we leave, the faster we get there."

I chuckle at his enthusiasm, then cut myself short, remembering his reasoning. Somberly, I head up the stairs with him close in tow. Opening the cabinet on the wall, I say, "Get that bag over there, please." I point to the bookshelf. "I normally use that when I go on book runs, so I know it can hold a lot." He brings it to me and I immediately start to fill it with clips of ammo, Stimpaks, RadAway, and some tatos and purified water. I hand the bag to him, "Think you can carry that for a while?"

"I'm pretty sure my body has enough adrenaline right now to carry the world for a week."

I giggle, "Okay, Atlas." He looks confused, so I explain, "Atlas was a god in Greek mythology. He had to hold up the world after…" I let my words trail off after I see his confusion go from bad to worse. "Nevermind."

I think of something suddenly. "Oh, yeah." I bend down under my bed and drag out an assault rifle and hand it to him, taking the bag from his shoulder and setting it on my bed.

"What's this?"

"Uh, it's an assault rifle," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I know," he says, giving me an annoyed look. "I mean, why are you handing it to me? You already have your combat rifle." He looks over in the corner at my rifle with its automatic receiver and suppresser.

I smile at him. "Well, sniper rifles aren't always practical. So when we're close range, bam!" I gesture hugely with my arms to the rifle in his hands. "Assault rifle in their face." I hold my arms up like I'm aiming a rifle and make a _pop_ noise. "Dead. Problem solved."

" _This is mine?_ " he asks, his tone very surprised. I nod at him, the smile still on my face. "When did you get this?" He turns it over in his hands, checking it out.

"When you had your back turned yesterday. I was at Arturo's, and when you weren't looking, I bought it from him. Remember when you were looking for me but couldn't find me for a bit and it freaked you out?"

"It didn't freak me out," he says, his tone not as convincing as I assume he wanted it to be.

"Oh, okay," I agree with a roll of my eyes. "Anyway, I snuck it home when you were hunting for me all over the city." I laugh. "Arturo told me you'd made two full laps around the bases before I came back. But, yeah, I just made it seem like I was hiding from you." I laugh again. "Got you good, didn't I?" I pat his shoulder. "Merry… Birthday." I turn around to my leather armour laying on top the dresser.

As I fasten the second leg piece on, I hear him say, "Thank you, Beth. You didn't have to. Really."

I face him, placing my chest piece over my head and buckling it. "Did, too. I hired you to keep me safe, right? This is me helping you help me. Don't think of it as a gift if it bothers you. Just think of it as a… wise investment." I turn back around to put my arm pieces on.

"It doesn't bother me. Actually, the opposite. I really appreciate it." He scoots the bag of supplies over so he can sit on my bed. "I'm just not used to people being nice to me like this. It's been so long since anyone has given me anything." He continues to look at the gun in his lap. "It's a nice one," his tone is full of admiration.

"Should be," I reply, strapping on the last arm piece. "Arturo said it's like a plasma gun, too. I don't see how. Looks like a regular rifle to me."

Robert looks like he couldn't believe what he heard. "It's a legendary plasma infused assault rifle?" He looks at it again, as if for the first time. "This must have cost a fortune. Beth, I can't accept it." He goes to hand it back to me.

"Um, no." I shove it into his chest. "This is yours. It was a gift. Plus, Arturo said no returns. It didn't even cost that much—I have plenty of caps."

"Oh, yeah? How much was it?" His tone tells me he doesn't believe me.

I pretend to adjust my armour. "Not that much," I lie. "Doesn't matter how much it was anyway, cause it's yours. Now, are we going to go on talking about it or start our trek?" I look at him with my eyebrows raised.

He stands up and grabs the bag on the bed, slinging it over his left shoulder and gripping his new weapon with his right hand. "Let's go get that cure." He moves his way past me and heads down the stairs.

"That's what I thought," I smile.

* * *

As we walked through the city ruins, we stayed quiet. Whether that was to a mutual reasoning of not wanting to attract hostiles or not, I wasn't sure. But once we got out into the open, we started talking more. Robert decided it'd be a wise decision to not bring the price of his assault rifle up—which was smart.

As we kept walking, I told him a couple stories of when I was younger, to which he was extremely intrigued due to their Pre-War nature. When we reached Bunker Hill, I talked about the time I took a field trip there with my school. _It's seen better days,_ I said. _It didn't have gaping holes in the obelisk back then._ I continued to tell him how my friend and I had wondered off and got into trouble when a parent chaperone found us. _We did have fun, though. Most people weren't allowed to go where we did, so I saw more than the other students. Totally worth the licking I got._

As we were getting nearer still, he told me a few more stories about living in Little Lamplight. He told me about the best and worst parts of holding the mayor position—which he kept for three years. He reminisced about what little he could remember from before his mayoral run, considering he was ten when he took on that position. He told me about a place called Big Town—the place where all the "mungos" went after leaving Lamplight. _They probably still go there,_ he said with a sigh. _Poor kids._

And before we knew it, Med-Tek was in sight.

* * *

"Wow, that's it. We got here quick," he comments on the building—it sitting across the road, not two hundred meters from us.

"Yeah. That'll happen when you're talking. Car rides were the same, even if it was cross-country, you'd be there before you knew it."

He stops me by grabbing my arm. "There're ferals on the outside, so I imagine the place is infested with them on the inside." He points to the entrance. "There's some around that door," he shifts his finger to the parking garage on the building's left, "and probably more in there." He grips his rifle more securely. "We have to be careful. They're ruthless creatures. They claw apart anything they can reach…" I pat his arm, knowing his mind must be on Lucy.

"We'll be fine," I assure him. "We're prepared."

As we advance toward the lab, he steps in front of me. "Let me go first. I've been here—you haven't." I don't argue as he leads the way, his body in a protective posture.

We crouch down when we're across the street from the building. "So, how're we going in?" I ask. "Stealthy or guns blazing?"

He looks at my rifle, the suppresser on the end. "Stealth out here. I don't know about in there. Depends on how many there are and the layout. I haven't made it inside yet." He pulls the sniper rifle off his back and looks at me, his brows raised.

"It doesn't have a suppresser," I state. "And we're too close now. If you wanted to snipe, should have done it when we were back there." I point in the direction we came from.

"Can I use it?" he asks, pointing to the end of my rifle.

"The suppresser?" He nods. "On your sniper rifle?" He nods again. "Can you even do that?" He takes the end of my rifle and unscrews the silencer from it, screwing it onto the end of his own. "I didn't know you could do that," I say, astounded.

He unscrews it again and points to the muzzle of his gun. "See these threads?" I nod as I examine them. "Yours has them, too. See?" He raises my gun and points at its muzzle. "If the threads are the same size, the suppressor can be exchanged between guns."

"How'd you learn so much about these things?" I ask.

"I picked up a sniper rifle when I was ten and never looked back. I used to practice my shooting in a tower right out front of the Little Lamplight entrance. One gun led to another. And believe it or not, the mayor and security positions were kind of a combination. So, I got comfortable with guns at a young age." He screws the suppressor back on the end of his sniper rifle, making sure it's screwed tightly.

"This is a good enough distance." He holds still for a second then says, "And the wind is quiet." He puts the weapon up to his shoulder, looking down the scope toward the ghouls. "I see three outside the door. And at least one in the garage. There's probably more, though."

The way he handles his rifle fascinates me. He holds it with such care and respect. His hands are precisely where he wants them, and it wouldn't be too far a stretch to compare the way he handles it to how a person caresses a lover. _Such strong hands…_

He backs away from his scope, looking at me. "You ready to kill these fu—uh, I mean, bastards?"

"Shoot," I say, pun intended. He apparently doesn't get it, as he gives me a face that says, _Obviously, I'm not going to run after them with a ball-peen hammer._

He aims once again, killing the one laying on the parking garage floor first, making sure the others don't notice. I have to admit I'm surprised my silencer works on his rifle, but since he said it would, I shouldn't have doubted him. After he drops the one closest to us, he works his way to the two ghouls closest to the door. Once they're all disposed of, he quickly unscrews the silencer and puts it back on the end of my rifle. "Quite a show, sir," I say, catching him off guard. "Never seen anybody use a sniper rifle before," I add. "I didn't realize it was so intense."

He raises a single eyebrow. "Is it?"

"Like you don't know." We stand up from our crouch and start walking toward Med-Tek again.

"Actually, no. That was a real question. I can't tell if it's intense—I'm so used to it now. It's been twelve years since I started." He looks at me as we keep walking. "How was it ' _intense_?'"

"You were hardly breathing, for one. And you shifted your gaze to the next one as soon as you made the kill. It was almost like you were a machine."

"You kinda have to be," he says, looking a bit down the road. _Always looking for threats._ "Humans don't make very good snipers honestly. Emotions can get in the way for some. But as for the breathing part—how else are you gonna get a straight shot? Breathing just shifts your aim. It can mess up the whole kill. Plus, I didn't want the others to notice before I wiped them out, so I had to be quick moving to the next one."

I nod. "Makes sense. Think you can teach me one day?"

He looks back to me, smiling a little. "Absolutely."

* * *

We made it to the security terminal—after killing tons of ghouls—and I was able to hack it successfully. _I always thought computers were a huge waste of time,_ Robert had said, to which I responded, _Well, maybe I'll make you hack the next one. Comes in handy sometimes, wouldn't you agree?_ I then pointed to the terminal I just cracked that had shut off the security lockdown. He just shrugged, not wanting to admit it. We then spent roughly the next hour cleaning out floor after floor of ghouls. They put up a fight, and took their fair share of bullets, but we got by—somehow—unscathed.

Finally, we made it to the core of the research lab.

* * *

"So this is where they performed all the experiments," I say, thinking about all the holding cells filled with ghouls.

"I don't know which one would be worse: knowing you're going to be experimented on, or slowly being turned into a ghoul," Robert says. He shakes his head. "If the cure is here, it's all worth it though. I know that sounds selfish, but—"

"I know," I cut him off. "I understand. I'd… think the same way if I were in your shoes." I look around the main chamber and find it void of ghouls. "Does that make us bad people?" I grip the bag slung over my shoulder with our supplies in it.

"Not particularly," he responds. "Just means we're willing to do anything—kill anyone—for the ones we love. I don't think that really makes us bad. Just loyal."

"Did you come up with that just now to make us feel better about doing this?"

He passes me so I can't see his face. "Not important." I laugh at his evasion. _Whatever works._ "I'm surprised there's no ghouls around here," he comments, looking around the heart of the lab.

"I was thinking the same thing a second ago. Maybe they all migrated to the other levels and we killed them already?" He shrugs. "Guess we'll find out." In sync, we raise our rifles, ready for the fight of the irradiated humans to continue.

As I walk around to the other side of the sealed off room, I look in the windows and find no ghouls in there either. I keep going, finding a small staircase leading to another room. Turning around, I spot a terminal on the wall. Laughing, I say, "Hey, you'll never guess what I found." He comes up behind me.

"Hm?" He spots it then, giving me a queer look. "No."

"Oh, c'mon!" I grab his arm and drag him over to it. "You'll never know how to get into stuff without knowing how to hack them." I grab his rifle and set it down on a table to the right and raise his hands, dropping them smack on the keyboard.

"That's what I have you for," he mumbles, clearly unhappy about my persistence.

"Well, I may not always be around."

He turns to me, alarm on his face. "You better be!"

"Just hack the terminal, Robert. It'll make me happy." I smile at him until he grunts and faces it. Satisfied, I turn to investigate the small stairway.

"I don't know why this is so important to you. It's just an annoyance. But… there." I hear the door to the sealed room open. Turning to him, I give him a thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

"Not that hard, huh?" I say smugly. He turns back to the terminal, rolling his eyes.

As I face the stairs once more—intent on seeing what's in the room—I hear a shuffling behind me. Thinking it's Robert messing with me for vengeance of making him hack, I ignore it. Then I hear him shout, "Look out!"

I turn to see a putrid glowing one barreling towards me. Not able to move in time, I feel its blow strike my neck and part of my chest. As I'm falling, I hear the sound of Robert's assault rifle going off repeatedly, but the ghoul doesn't stop his attack. I've heard bear mauling stories, but never thought I'd live through something similar. As its attack continues, I slip into darkness.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Stand By Me_ by Ben E. King

"Just hack the terminal, Robert. It'll make me happy." She smiles at me in such a way I can't say no. Grunting out my displeasure, I face the terminal, looking through the options. It's not that I don't know how to use terminals, I just prefer to use my skills toward other things—like survival. Or reading comics.

Finding the correct password within a few seconds, I say, "I don't know why this is so important to you. It's just an annoyance. But… there." The door slides open, turning to her, I see a sassy grin and a thumbs up.

"Not that hard, huh?" She sounds so complacent. Rolling my eyes, I face the terminal again, seeing if there's any other options I might've missed—like turret control.

I hear a small movement from inside the room I just opened the door to. _Lab rats?_ I wonder, chuckling internally. Before I know it, I see a putrid glowing one plowing toward Beth. "Look out!" I yell at her.

Even though it's just one ghoul versus the near dozen that took my wife, I can't help the flashbacks. Instead of Beth's face, for a split second, it's Lucy's face I see. Instead of the semi-lit up room we're in now, it appears dark like the metro for a moment.

Coming back down to reality, I see the ghoul swing at Beth, tearing at her neck and chest. She screams out in pain as her flesh is ripped and radiation soaks into her body from the attack. I pick up my rifle she set down and let loose a whole magazine into it, but its battering doesn't stop. She's now on the floor, seeming to struggle with consciousness. I reload and let another clip into the ghoul, knocking its legs out from underneath it. I run over to it and bash its head in with my stock until it falls still, dead at last.

I go up to her, her body laying not two feet from the dead bastard. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is shallow. She appears to be unconscious. "Beth!" I shout anyway, just about throwing my new gun down and kneeling by her. I look toward a small staircase she was heading toward before the attack. Running up them to see if there's anything that can help, I see a small couch to the left. Dashing back to her, I throw the bag with our supplies over my shoulder—she must have dropped it—and pick her up as quickly and carefully as I can. Sprinting back up the stairs, I place her on the cream coloured couch. Looking down at her, I can see her injuries more clearly.

She has a series of deep gashes on her neck, reaching down to her chest. There are small blood stains on the torso of her vaultsuit also. I just stare at her wounds for a moment, until I realize I need to take action. I turn to my left and see a cigarette machine. Grabbing the top of it, I throw it facedown onto the floor in front of her. Plopping myself down on it, I put the bag on the floor to my right and open it with such ferocity, I'm surprised the zipper doesn't break.

Looking in the bag, I see several Stimpaks and a few bags of RadAway. I hold her arm up to where I can see her radiation level on her Pip-Boy. It's too high for my comfort. Setting her arm down, I grab a bag of RadAway and prepare a needle. I'm not real sure how to proceed. "Should I just stick it through her suit?" I wonder out loud. "But the wounds…" I look from her neck to her stomach. "I can't see them." _Man, I do_ not _want to do this._ I realize the only way I can get to her injuries is by unzipping her vaultsuit. "I do _not_ want to do this," I say as I unzip it. _It's not like you're doing anything wrong,_ I think to myself. _You're helping her. She wouldn't care, right?_ Seeing her torso clears my thoughts immediately. She's not torn up as much as extremely bruised, but hurt badly all the same. Above that however…

She has deep lacerations on the side of her neck which extend down to her chest. Clearly, that's where the ghoul had swung the hardest, causing the most damage. The strong desire to help her takes away all the distraction of seeing her practically half-naked.

Working with purpose, I slip off her right sleeve and insert the prepared RadAway. Moving from that, I take a Stimpak in my hand and get ready to inject it only to stop a few inches from her skin. Even in her unconscious state, her face is contorted in pain. It bothers me. Knowing there's only one way to fix it, I inject the Stimpak into the side of her neck, careful to not stab her artery. I take another and inject it into her abdomen, around the bruising. Looking again into the bag, I see a syringe. _I've never been so happy to see Med-X in my life._ I take it and inject it into her arm near the RadAway needle. _I guess she remembered to bring it this time._ I think back to when she was shot in the shoulder and I'd wished I had some for her.

I don't know what else to do. I just sit here, looking at her. I thought I'd have enough wasteland knowledge to know how to continue caring for her. I run over a list of things in my head that I've seen doctors do—I seem to have not missed any steps. _Stimpak, RadAway, Med-X… At least she doesn't need surgery. Anything else? I feel like I'm missing something. Think!_ As hard as I'm thinking, I can't come up with anything else. I look at the gashes on her neck and chest as the Stimpak I injected there takes effect. Slowly but surely, the wounds start to heal up. Slower than her bullet wound in Goodneighbor, but they're healing. After a few minutes pass, the slash marks on her skin appear as pink slits, like minor injuries that have naturally been healing for months. I look down to her torso, to the bruising there. They're yellowish, showing their healing rate, and slowly disappearing altogether.

As I continue to watch her, still not sure what else to do, her breathing starts getting faster, like she's having a panic attack. I start to wonder if she can feel all the pain, if she knows what happened. Then without warning, on the height of the fastest breath yet, so exhales. And doesn't inhale.

I sit here for a second, just looking at her in shock. I've done everything I can. There are no doctors for miles around—no help coming.

Then, I'm no longer sitting. I stand up so quick, I get lightheaded. Leaning over her, I grip her shoulders—not in a death grip, but not as gently as I should. "Beth!" I shake her a little bit. "Don't you die on me! You can't do that to me!" Still unresponsive, unbreathing, she lays there. I let go of her shoulders and fall back down onto the overturned vending machine. Grabbing her hand, I hold it in both of mine. It's warm, lifelike, human. "You can't leave me…" Tears threaten to fall down my face. "Bad enough Lucy was killed by ghouls… Not you, too." The tears make their damned appearance. "You're too good. Not you, too…" I put my head down onto her arm and cry, "I love you."

She takes a breath, a gasp for air. I jerk my head up. She's now breathing at a normal pace as if nothing happened—like she's just sleeping. Her face is no longer twisted with pain. And since her wounds have all but healed, it appears she just laid down to take a nap… with her vaultsuit unzipped. A minute after I pull myself together, I carefully take the RadAway drip out from her elbow, put her arm back in her sleeve, and zip it up.

The time couldn't be much past midevening, but I'm so exhausted. The walk, all the ghoul slaying, then the attack and having to tend to her injuries… It's been a full day. I stand up again—at a better pace that doesn't leave me lightheaded this time—and stand the cigarette machine back up on its feet. Moving the bag of supplies out of the way a bit, I sit on the floor and lean against the front of the small couch near her head. With my back to her, the only way I know she's okay is by hearing her breathing—slow and steady.

I lean my head against the arm of the couch, which isn't that comfortable, and listen to her in my ear. I'm beyond happy that she's okay. Thinking that she gets to live another day, tears come out of my eyes for a whole new reason. I smile and close my eyes, drifting off into slumber.

* * *

 _A/N: Close call there. And like I'd mentioned in the Intro to the fic, that there might_ possibly _be a thing called "magic," so to say. Well, I belive this was a good example of said thing. Yup._


	10. 09 Confession

9\. Confession

Beth POV

I open my eyes.

All I see is a ceiling. But not my ceiling in Diamond City. This ceiling looks Pre-War, but torn apart. I'm in a rundown building somewhere in the Commonwealth.

There's a snoring in my ear—light, but it's there. Turning my head in that direction, I see the back of Robert's head. Wondering where we are, I look around the room. I see a cigarette machine, a couple chairs on the other side of the room, and an elevator between the two. _Where are we?_

I sit up—feeling some bruises on my torso as I move—and look around the room a bit better. Wanting to find out where we are, I put my hand on Robert's shoulder. He snaps his head forward, instantly awake from his sleep having been light. Looking around in front of him, and coming up short with what could have touched him, he whips his whole body toward me. _If his eyes get any bigger than they are, they'll explode._ He looks at me with this skepticism, as if I'm not real or something. He gets to his knees rather slowly—keeping his eyes on me the whole time—and wraps his arms around me with such care. After a minute, he pulls away, looking me in the eyes, and asks, "Are you okay?"

I nod. Looking immensely relieved, he hugs me again. I can barely understand him due to his face being buried in my shoulder, but I think he says, "I didn't know what was going to happen to you. I swear you died for a minute." His voice starts getting that croaky edge a person gets when they're upset. I remember what happened.

A putrid glowing one came at me so fast I couldn't defend myself. I remember feeling the pain as its claws ripped into the skin on my neck and chest—it beating me on the ribcage with its bare fists once I was on the floor. Like some kind of animal. _They claw apart anything they can reach,_ Robert had said about them. _No kidding,_ I think to myself. _So, this must be the room I was heading toward with the small staircase._

He leans away from me again, asking, "Hungry?" He looks to our supply bag with the tatos I packed. I shake my head, amazed that my neck doesn't hurt. I put my hand up to it, feeling for the gashes. They're not there—my neck is whole. I'm not even sure if the "scars" I'm feeling are being imagined or not. Looking up at Robert, I finally speak.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" he asks with his brows raised, shocked to hear me speak after so long would be my guess.

"All of it. Kill the ghoul, bring me in here. …Heal me."

He looks down blushingly. "Yeah… Had to do it." _Why is he embarrassed about that?_

I look at my Pip-Boy, noting my radiation level is lower than I expected. _He must've used a RadAway along with the Stimpaks._ I also notice it's nearly four in the morning. "We spent all night here?"

"Guess we did," he says.

"Did you get the cure?"

He looks at me as if he'd forgotten all about it. After a second he says, "Be right back," and leaves the room.

I laugh to myself. _Was he so worried about staying by me while I was out that he_ actually _forgot the whole reason we came here?_

A few minutes later, he comes back holding a red syringe-like thing in his hand. "This is it." The croaking in his voice is still there, showing his happiness at finding it. "We need to get it to Daisy in Goodneighbor. She can get it back to Duncan on a caravan heading to DC. You know, once you feel up to it." He puts it in the bag with the other things we brought.

"I'm happy for you, Robert." I smile up at him as he smiles down at me.

"Thank you," he says genuinely. "I couldn't have done this without you. I'm just really sorry I didn't see that ghoul sooner…" He looks mad at himself.

"Not your fault. Even if you did, it still might have kicked my butt. We don't know. So, don't worry about it." He looks like he's not going to stop worrying about it, but nods anyway. "Anyway," I say, distracting him, "I'm ready to head home."

He looks surprised. "You feel up to it? You took quite a beating."

"I'm just ready to relax in my own bed," I say, thinking about how long it seems I've been out of it.

"If you think you can." He holds his hand out to me, offering to help me up. Feeling the bruises in my abdomen, however little they are, I take it and rise to my feet with his assistance.

"Oh!" he exclaims once he drops my hand and dashes out the room. He comes back with both of our rifles in hand. "I mighta thrown this around a little, but it wasn't important at the time." He hands me mine, which I remember dropping after being hit.

"It'll be fine," I say. "They're durable, right?"

"Yeah, this one especially. I still can't believe you got this for _me_."

"Now, drop it. You knew we weren't going to talk about it anymore."

"I'm not complaining. I'm complimenting, if anything." He seems to be trying his best to shake off the ghoul incident, however convincingly.

As he's about to head to the elevator, I stop him by putting my hand on his chest. He looks at me expectantly. "I'm okay," I swear to him. "I'm alive because of you." _Again._ I think about the time in Goodneighbor when I got shot and he helped me, not even knowing me, as I had just hired him.

He looks down, then after a few seconds, back at my face. "I didn't have a choice. It's not as if I was like, 'I'm gonna save her because I can.' I saved you because I _had_ to." He looks down again. "I couldn't not. I had to. I didn't have a choice," his words getting quieter and quieter to the point where I have to try and read his lips.

He grabs the bag on the floor with the supplies. "Let's head home," he says.

* * *

The walk home was uneventful, thank God. I didn't know if I could handle any more fights. I was already exhausted from the walk yesterday. And the ghoul mauling. Couldn't forget that if I tried.

We finally crossed paths with the turrets and guards of Diamond City, and I knew we'd made it to our safe haven. Strolling through the market, nobody could even tell what we'd been through. It just looked like we had come back from a regular day in the wasteland: dirty and tired. A normal Tuesday morning.

Walking into Home Plate never felt so good.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _The One That I Want_ by Lo-Fang

We walk in the door and she sighs with relief. "Nothing like being home," she says.

"I hear you," I agree, setting my rifle and the supplies bag by the door then dumping myself onto the couch. She puts her rifle next to mine and sits on the couch also. "You know what?" I ask her.

"What?"

"It's kinda crazy how quickly this place has become home for me. I mean, it's been all of—what? _Four_ days since I first walked in here?" She thinks for a second then nods. "I've never felt so at home in such a short amount of time in my life. Even Lamplight, where I lived for _sixteen_ years didn't feel as bit of home as your house does."

"It's your home, too, you know." Her face has the expression one might have when something is obvious without having to say it.

"Oh, yeah?" I tease her, "How come you're the only one here with a bed then, huh?"

Her face shifts from her previous expression. Her eyes go round and she looks mortified. "I don't know," she finally says. "I guess I need to get you one."

"I'm just messin' with you, Beth," I chuckle. "The couch isn't _that_ bad." I punch the back of it and a decent sized dust cloud appears. After we both cough a bit from it, she looks even more humiliated. "Don't worry about it," I assure her. "Didn't even know it was there 'til just now."

"No, I'm finding you a bed." Sheepishly, "You can have the third floor, if you want it."

"What if I want the big room?" I ask, feigning a temper tantrum. I look over to the other end of the living room, toward the giant part of the house.

"To make a bachelor pad or something? Parties every Friday?" she asks sarcastically.

We both just laugh a little and the subject fades rather quickly when she says, "Thank you," with a straight face.

"For what? Asking for a bigger room or bringing the dusty couch to your attention?"

She gives me a flat look then continues. "I never got to _properly_ thank you back at Med-Tek," she clarifies. "I wouldn't be here if you didn't take action as quickly as you did. So, thank you."

"No need." I look down and away from her side of the couch slightly. "Like I said back there, I couldn't just let you die. You're too important." _To me,_ I finish the thought in my head. Feeling like I'm being too expressive out loud, I switch it up a bit. "Shaun needs his mom. You need to be alive for him." _Good save? Think so._

"Well, still," she says. "I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it. A lot. So there." She shifts her weight. _Nervous?_

Suddenly, a thought pops into my head. I really don't want it to but it charges like a mad deathclaw: _I saw Lucy's face back there as if it was her death playing over in my head. It was strikingly similar, seeing Beth in that situation._

Then as if Lucy could hear that thought, she chimes in: "Tell her how you feel, Robert. You may not have forever." Shocked to not only hear my late wife's voice, but coming to that conclusion, renders me motionless. Beth notices and looks my way.

"You okay over there?" My staying still for another few seconds makes her nervous, as she scoots closer, "Hey," and pokes my arm.

Looking at her, and not really even registering what she said, I ask, "Can we talk?"

Her face is slightly alarmed but she nods.

Although very difficult, I force myself to look her in the face. "Back when Lucy died, I wondered if it would have been better if Duncan and I had died with her. Especially since he's gotten sick. But now with this cure, he'll be fine and I'm glad I didn't make that decision. Not only for that purpose, though.

"She gave me hope that this world isn't all ugly. She was beautiful and tough and a great mother. She helped me when my life wasn't going smoothly. Like a shoulder to cry on, I guess you could say. Whenever she died, I thought I'd be alone forever. Except for Duncan, I thought I'd never have a friend or anyone I could say I was close to. But I see that I was wrong. Very wrong.

"I can find that in you. You help me to see that there _is_ good in this world still, and that it wasn't a onetime occurrence. And that makes me so happy, you have no idea. You're like…" I think for a second for a term. "A beacon… in a dark place. I can see so much better now than I used to. And I want you to have something." I stand up and go to my personal belongings I've had since I'd left the Capital Wasteland. I retrieve my item and hand it to her. She looks confused, looking at me as I sit back on the couch, closer to her than before.

"It may seem silly to give you what looks like a wooden toy. But it's not just a toy. Lucy made that for me when we left Lamplight. She said she'd always seen me as a soldier: brave and willing to do anything for his people. I thought she was just biased, but that right there," I point to the carved piece of wood, "that has always had meaning for me. Not because of the solider part. But because my wife made it for me because she was _proud_ of me. I never knew what that felt like until then. And that's why it's so special."

She looks at it with purpose, taking in the shapes of it, the colors, matching the story of its background to its surface. "It's a great gift. But I can't take it. Since _she_ made it for you, it'd be wrong." She tries to hand it back.

I push her hand back toward her. "No. You should have it. I…" _Say it, Robert_. I take a deep breath. "I don't know how this is going to go, but it's better to just spit it out, right?" Even though I'm mainly talking to myself, she looks intrigued. "I feel like I need to tell you this, so please let me say it…

"We've been traveling for a while now, and I feel like I've gotten to know you really well. It may not be a long time to you, but for me it feels like a small forever. And a really, really good one. I didn't realize I could be this happy again. So, that being said…" I swallow the huge lump making its way up my throat, and take a deep breath to steady myself.

"I love you. Now I know what you're probably thinking. 'But he still loves his wife.' Yeah, I do. I admit, I always will. But she's not here now. _You_ are. I understand that you probably still love your husband, and don't feel the same way. And that's fine. I just needed to get this off my chest. I feel like I couldn't walk around much longer without saying it, or I'd just make it obvious one day.

"But, I mean… you're gorgeous. Inside and out. How could I not fall for you even a tiny bit? I love it when you smile or giggle at the smallest things. The knowledge you have from before just… baffles me, and makes me want to stay up all night asking you questions about what it was like. But your eyes… They're my favourite part about you. They're so expressive, so full of life. So beautiful."

I look down, away from her face. "So, yeah. It's fine if you say you don't feel the same. I understand if you don't want me to travel with you anymore. I can just go back to DC and deliver my son's cure myself." As I'm about to stand up—ready to grab my possessions and leave from her lack of response—she comes toward me and hugs me. Shocked, I don't react in any way other than sitting still. After a second she leans back, her face pleasantly surprised.

"About time," is all she says. It takes me a moment to realize what she means.

"Y-You mean you…?" My eyebrows shoot straight up my forehead in shock.

She looks away a bit, blushing the reddest I've ever seen her face. "I've been… feeling the same way. I just didn't know how to bring it up. Or if it even would have been a good idea. I know you love Lucy still. And I'll never stop loving Nate. But… they're not here anymore. And we are. We have to make the best out of what we have, right?" She looks at me, a small sideways grin on her face.

"Right," I say, smiling at her with possibly the biggest smile I've worn in years.

I go in for a hug and she gladly accepts and reciprocates. I can feel it: a charge in the air. The few times I _have_ hugged her felt a bit heavy for some reason, I could feel it even then. But this time, the hug is heavy in a whole new aspect. It's not heavy with tension or guilt. It's heavy with mutual tenderness and adoration, affection of sorts.

When we drop our embrace, we look at each other with those stupid grins I see on old romantic flick movie posters. But it doesn't bother me any.

"Is it too early for me to say that I love you?" I ask, thinking that maybe it was a little premature.

She shakes her head. "I don't think so," she replies with an easy smile. "Cause I love you, too. See? I'm not afraid to say it."

Her smile is so mesmerizing, so intoxicating. I can lose myself in the depths of her blue eyes any day and be okay with it. I find myself leaning in toward her, and she mimics me. I haven't even fully realized what I'm doing until I've met her lips with my own. They're so soft and small, plump, perfect. I'd be fine with staying like this forever, but my body pulls me away all too soon, my mind not even have made any kind of decision on the matter.

After I open my eyes, I see her looking at me with her own, rounded in happiness, a small smile lighting up her face. She looks genuinely happy—like exactly how I'm feeling at the moment.

With us both being more than content—ecstatic, really—we wrap our arms around each other and lean against the back of the couch, savouring the moment. A few minutes later, she asks me, "You wanna know another good part to this?"

"Hm?"

"I don't have to buy you a bed now." She looks up at me from her resting place on my chest and smiles playfully.

* * *

 _A/N: Yay! Finally, one of the two genres makes sense! Romance_ — _yaas._


	11. 10 An Emotional New Start

10\. An Emotional New Start

MacCready POV

 _Such Great Heights_ by Iron & Wine

It happened. I never thought in a million years. But… it happened.

I'm currently lying in bed, slowly waking up from what still seems to be a dream. But as I open my eyes, it's no dream. I'm lying in Beth's bed, next to her. She's curled up in the crook of my arm, asleep still. She snores a little bit when she sleeps, but instead of how people find it annoying, I think it adds a whole 'nother level of cuteness. She has her arm casually thrown over me, her mouth slightly agape as her wood sawing impression continues.

I look over to her Pip-Boy laying on the nightstand next to her eyeglasses. It's almost ten in the morning. _Strange for her to sleep in this much. She's usually up by six._ I, on the other hand, would prefer to sleep in _every_ morning, but she is always so eager to start the day. I don't understand why. What does she look forward to so much out here in this wasteland?

As she wiggles a bit in her sleep, her snoring sputters, then picks up again once she settles down. Looking down at her, I still can't believe it.

A few nights ago, I took the chance of telling her how I've been feeling. I was so sure it was going to end badly. She would tell me I've gone too far, that she feels I'm only a friend, maybe like a brother. She'd then say that she wouldn't feel right being around me all the time. So, I'd go back to Goodneighbor and she'd stay here in Diamond City. We'd never see each other. Hell, she'd probably avoid me. Then I'd be lost all over again.

But it happened nothing like that. She said that she felt the same—that she _has_ been feeling the same way. My body moved by itself without my mind's permission, and I kissed her. She didn't object—she kissed me _back._ And I still can't get over the fact that that actually happened.

As I lay here, with her at my side, I can't slow my thoughts down. I'm getting tons at once, and I feel like I can't process one before two more pop up.

 _What does this make us? Are we a couple now? Does that make her my girlfriend or something?_

 _Can I even handle a relationship? I mean, I've been here before. I just got torn down and cheated of my happiness. Could I handle it if it happened again? No. I'd die. I'm pretty sure of it._

 _I have Duncan to think about. Should I uproot him and move him here, or should Beth and I move there?_

 _But what about_ her _son? Should we uproot_ him _?_

 _Will Shaun accept me? Will he even like me?_

 _Can we even find him? What if I can't help her find her son?_

I stop there, scolding myself for even thinking the words. I look down at her again, to her semi-quiet, sleeping form. She's so small, so delicate. Yet, she holds so much power—most of which she has no idea. She had the power to make me fall in love with her. I bet she didn't even try. _Well, I don't know about that, the little minx._ I chuckle. But however quietly, she starts to stir.

She stretches her legs out and moans softly. After yawning, she opens her eyes. Looking up at me, she smiles.

"Morning," I tell her, moving a piece of hair out of her face.

" _Good_ morning," she corrects. I can't help a small grin myself. "It's a _good_ morning, cause you're here." She tightens the arm stretched over me, giving me a hug.

"I can't argue with that." I crane my neck to kiss the top of her head. "Ready to face the day?"

"No, I wanna stay here," she says in a pouty tone. She tries to look over me to the nightstand. "What time is it anyway?"

I glance over again, then say, "A few minutes after ten."

Her eyes pop open. "Ten?!" She crawls halfway on top of me, making sure I'm not pulling her leg. Confirming the time herself, "Wow. I didn't think it was that _late._ " She continues her crawling over me until she's standing up. She grabs her Pip-Boy and tunes in to Classical Radio, then sets it down again as she puts on her glasses and officially starts the day.

This is something I've been wanting to ask her for a while but never got the chance to. Propping my head up with my arm, I ask, "Why do you listen to that station all the time? They just play the same thing over and over."

She turns to face me from the cabinet on the wall. "And Travis doesn't repeat songs on Diamond City Radio?"

"Well, yeah," I admit. "I just never have really cared for classical myself."

She looks at me with wide eyes. "Not into classical?!" Whether she's faking or just overdoing her irritation, I can't tell.

I chuckle a bit, _She's so extra._ "Not really. To each his own, right?"

"No, no, that's just wrong," she walks back over to the bed with a grin and sits next to me. Playing with my sleep-tousled hair, she says, "Everyone's supposed to love it. It's just a rule in life."

She pecks my cheek then goes to stand to continue her morning routine. I stop her by grabbing her wrist, keeping her next to me. "Can't we just stay here for a while?" I ask. "I'd say you deserve some time off."

She looks a little perplexed at first, but then she sighs and grins, saying, "Yeah, I guess so. A day off wouldn't be so bad once in a while." Keeping the music turned on in the background, she climbs back over me and practically falls down at my side. She looks at me with a smile and nuzzles closer as I turn onto my side and put my arm around her waist. "I can get used to this."

It didn't go unnoticed that she still didn't answer my question. "So, why _do_ you listen to that station all the time?"

She shrugs, her eyes closed in contentment. "Probably because it reminds me of my dad. I grew up listening to this art in audible form." She grins. "We used to listen to it all the time in our house. My mom was kinda like you—she didn't care for it. But Dad? He listened to it 24/7, cause his parents did when he was a kid. He worked a lot and was away, but when he was home—the _whole_ time he was home—you could hear Liszt or Vivaldi or _someone_ somewhere in the house at all times." She chuckles quietly, "He and I used to dance when I was a young girl. I wasn't very good at it, but that never stopped him from pulling me into a waltz. As a matter of fact, everytime _The Garland Waltz_ by Tchaikovsky was on, we stopped what we were doing and merged into the living room to dance. Mom didn't care to hear our classical music as much as we did, but she loved watching us. So, she'd stop her task also and just stand in the doorway, where she thought we couldn't see her. But I knew. I always knew." Her grin morphs into something of a sad smile. Quietly, "I miss those days."

Without any kind of DJ announcing the transition, the station shifts songs and starts playing one I remember she called _Salut d'Amour._ "Who says you can't dance anymore?" I lift my frame off the bed and hold out my hand. "May I have this dance, Beth?"

She looks up at me with the most confused yet somehow happy face I've ever seen. " _Can_ you dance?" she giggles.

I say, "I can try," as she stands in front of me, looking not so sure.

"It's been a while for me," she confesses. "I'm gonna be pretty rusty."

"Well, I'm not even sure I _can_ ," I retort. "So, either way, we'll both be bad." She looks at me flatly and mouths a sarcastic, _Thanks._

She grabs onto my hand and places it on her hip, my other hand in her own. Placing her opposite hand on my shoulder she pauses until the next measure, then starts moving. I'm trying my best to keep up with her, but it's a little too fast, for me not knowing what to do. I guess she can tell it's a little much for me because she stops moving and steps in closer, wrapping her arms around me and lays her head on my chest. "It's okay if we just slow dance," she says with a soft chuckle. As I embrace her back, she starts to sway side to side.

"Well, this is easy enough." I lay my head on hers as we continue our lopsided dance.

* * *

As our day continued, we just hung around the house. We listened to Classical Radio the whole time as we lounged around, talking and whatnot. I couldn't argue with why she likes to listen to the station, since she told me. _It won't bother me anymore,_ I thought, as I started to learn a new appreciation for the music.

It was around four in the afternoon—we were wondering around the big room, trying to figure out what to make out of it—when she got serious suddenly, her mood shifting from pure happiness to sullen grief.

* * *

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

She turns to me, her face looking like she hadn't even heard me. "What?"

I cross the room to her. "Something's wrong. What's the matter?"

She looks down, a frown on her face. "I just thought of something." She looks back at me. "I'd want to make this Shaun's room. Or make this our room and move Shaun upstairs." Her eyes drift. "I just want my baby back. I don't care if he's a child now. I just want him back." A tear falls onto the concrete floor.

"We'll find him." I step up to her and wrap her in a warm, reassuring embrace. "Do we have any leads?"

Against my chest, "Nick helped me figure out who it was. I just need to find him now." She lifts her head. "Remember that house we went into the other day?"

"Yeah," I say. "I think you called him Kellogg?"

"Yes. He's the guy. He took Shaun away from me. He's the one that killed Nate." A small, subtle stream of tears in falling down her face now. _So, he's the bastard. I'll make him pay myself._ I hug her to me tighter, not saying anything. Sometimes, all a grieving person needs is silent comfort.

After a few seconds I lead her to the living room and sit on the loveseat with her. A minute later, I break the silence. "We're gonna find him." I lift her chin up to look at her face. "You okay?" She nods, her eyes still red. "I'm going to go see Nick for a bit. I'll be right back, okay?" She must be deep in thought as she just nods again. _Normally, I'd think she would want to come with me._

I stand up and leave the house. Walking to Nick's office, I think of what I'm going to ask him. I think of his verbal questionnaire the other day. _Will he even trust me enough to say anything?_

When I get to the door, I pause for a second. Taking a deep breath, I walk into Valentine Detective Agency.

His secretary, Ellie, looks up at me. "Oh, hello," she greets me. "Where's Beth?"

"At home. Is Nick in today?"

"He left to run a quick errand. He should be back soon. Need to speak with him?"

"Actually, yeah."

"Well, make yourself at home. He'll be back in no time." She gestures to a chair in front of her desk, then walks to a filing cabinet on the opposite wall, storing or moving files from place to place.

As I'm lowering myself to sit on the chair, the door opens and Nick walks in. I stand up as he walks to me. Shaking my hand with his own metallic hand, he says, "Robert, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why so formal, son?" he asks. "And where's Beth at?"

"She's at home, and upset about what she's been through. Which is why I'm here," I specify. "I want—no, I _need_ to find her son. And she said you know a little something about it."

"Ah," he sighs. "I do know some, yes." He glares into my eyes with those yellow optics of his. "Why would a merc for hire want to help a young lady out?"

I clear my throat. "It's, uh… it's a little more than just a business partnership these days."

His "eyebrows" raise. "Is it now?"

"Yeah." I shift my weight from my left foot to my right. "But, uh… I _really_ need to find this guy—Kellogg. He needs to pay for what he did to her."

He looks at me for a few seconds, seeming to decide if I can be trusted or not. Finally, he says, "Couldn't agree more. Here's what we know."

* * *

Nick told me about how Kellogg lived in the house Beth and I went to the other day—he and a ten-year-old boy. _Shaun is ten years old now?_ I asked him. How was that possible? He better described to me how cryostasis works. It was possible—and most likely what happened—that she was refrozen for ten more years after the kidnapping of her infant. The thought just baffled me.

After talking about where we might find Kellogg, Nick and I decided we'd go after him in the morning. We thought it best to take Dogmeat with us, so he could help sniff our way there. I didn't know if Beth would want to go with us, or if it was even a good idea. But I decided I should at least tell her our plans.

* * *

When I walk in the door at Home Plate, I hear Beth turning the pages of a book from the second floor.

"I'm back," I say as I walk up the stairs. Making my way to the side of the bed, I sit down.

She looks up from her book. "Hey." She bends her head back to it.

"What are you reading? I ask.

" _Walden._ I picked it up when we were at Thoreau's cabin."

"Oh, okay." She continues reading. After a minute, I put my hand on her arm. "Beth?"

"Hm?"

"I just thought I'd tell you that Nick and I are going after Kellogg tomorrow morning. We're taking Dogmeat with us. He deserves to get out of the Agency for a while, plus we need his nose to guide us. I don't know if you want to go with us or not, but I just thought you would want to know." After I started telling her this, she looks up at me finally with her eyes looking scared to death.

"No, you can't go alone!" Her face is fraught with terror.

"I'm not going to be alone," I assure her. "Nick and Dogmeat will be with me."

"I don't think so," she says as soon as I ended my sentence. "I'm coming with you."

"You think that's the best idea?" I ask softly.

"I _know_ it is. He took my husband's life and my baby away from me. I'm _ending_ him." Her fear is no longer present—she has utter vengeance in her voice.

"Well, at least let me be there with you. I know how it is. You want revenge, and that's fine—understandable. But when you see him, you could get reckless. Let me protect you," I clarify. "I want to see him pay for what he did to you just as much as you. So, please don't take those things away from me."

She closes her eyes, her anger changing into an expression of upset deliberation. "What if he hurt you?" she asks, her eyes still closed. "What if he took not only Shaun? Or Nate's life? What if he took you from me, too? I can barely handle what I _have_ been through. Do you seriously think I would forgive myself if he killed you? Or even _hurt_ you?" She opens her eyes and sets her book down on the nightstand. When she looks at me, I see tears starting to form in her eyes. She shakes her head. "Not you, too." She blinks and the tears spill over.

I scoot back onto the bed, pulling her into my hold. "I won't let that happen," I promise her. "Did you not hire me to watch your back as you searched for your son? Well, this is me, protecting you. Not because of that stupid contract we made—it doesn't even matter anymore. I _want_ to protect you. I _need_ to. Let me," I plead. Silently, I can feel her nod against me, letting me know she will.

I lean back a bit, trying to get a look at her face. "We leave in the morning. And I don't think some extra sleep would hurt us. Looks like you could use some right about now anyway."

With my duster and hat not having left the top of the dresser today, I kick back further in the bed, Beth settling onto my chest as I rub soothing circles on her back.

"Tomorrow," I say before we go under. "We'll get it done. I promise"


	12. 11 This Wasn't Planned

11\. This Wasn't Planned

Beth POV

 _From Yesterday_ by 30 Seconds To Mars

He told me last night. Robert and Nick planned to find Kellogg and put an end to him. When he told me, I just about lost it. I couldn't imagine him getting hurt. And since I've seen Kellogg in action, I feared for Robert's life. I knew Nick could handle himself—he's more durable, more easily repaired. But Robert on the other hand… He's human. All it would take would be a single bullet to the head and it'd be game over. Then I'd be lost all over again. We've only been traveling together for a month, roughly. But it's felt like forever. Like I finally met my match. I loved Nate to death, but now that he's gone, and Robert's here, I will love _him_ to death—literally—I'd die for this man, no problem. Behind finding Shaun, he's all that matters now.

It's now early morning, and I've been awake for far too long. I've been staring at Robert's face for an unfathomable amount of time. _Will this be the last time I see him like this?_

Even though I can't see the time on my Pip-Boy from here, my internal clock is telling me it's almost five. _I've been awake for so long, I don't even know how I'm going to do this. I'm still tired from last night._

Although it's way too early for Robert to wake up, he starts to stir, grunting as he slowly gains consciousness.

Heavy sighing, he opens his eyes and looks around the room before they land on my face. "You look exhausted," he says, his voice full of sleep.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get much rest." I tuck my arm under my head as I continue to look at him. "Woke up from a dream a few hours ago and couldn't go back to sleep." My face scrunches from the memory of it.

Seeing my clear discontent, he asks, "Nightmare?" He moves onto his side from his back and copies me by placing his arm beneath his head.

"I guess so, yeah."

"Want to tell me about it? Sometimes it helps," he suggests.

"Sure." I think about how to start. "It was about today. Like, us going to find Kellogg. Well, we found him—it was just you and I. Nick and Dogmeat weren't with us. So, right before I pull the trigger, he vanishes. I didn't know where he went. But then suddenly, he's behind us. Instead of aiming for me, he aims for you and fires." Just the thought of this puts a croakiness in my voice. Trying my best to continue, "You died instantly, and then he just left. He knew I couldn't kill him. I didn't even try. I just sat next to you, weeping." I look away. "I can't lose you like that," I whisper.

Robert looks worried for me. "That's not going to happen," he assures. "We'll be fine. Everything's gonna be okay. Alright?" He lifts my face and looks at me with an oath in his eyes. "He won't know what's comin' to him. Besides, Nick and Dogmeat _are_ going to be with us. We'll get this done."

"Thank you," I say genuinely. "I don't know how this is going to go, but as long as we're together, it'll be okay." _As much as I'm trying to convince myself, why do I feel like I'm lying?_

* * *

"You sure you should come with us? The kid, dog, and I can handle Kellogg if you want to stay home." Ever since meeting Nick in his office, he had been trying to persuade me to stay in Diamond City. Even as we found Kellogg's trail and was well on the road to him, he was still trying his best.

"Nick. I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least see his death. I need to be the one to end him anyway."

Robert adds, "He took _her_ life from her. She needs to be the one. We're just her backup." Everytime Nick has tried to tell me it'd be best to not tag along, Robert would speak up on my behalf. I could tell he didn't want me to go either, but he understood my reasoning. Nick looked a little upset with him everytime he'd say something like that, but at the same time, he almost looked relieved somehow.

* * *

After seemingly countless hours of walking, Dogmeat stands at a boarded up door and barks, signaling that we've reached our destination.

"I think this is it, guys," I say, looking up at the building for the first time. "Fort Hagen?"

"Sounds like you've been here before. Before the War?" Robert asks me.

"Yeah. Nate had to turn in some paper work here. After that, we went to the park and made a day of it." I can feel my cheeks growing redder by the second at the thought. _That was when Shaun was conceived._ I laugh internally, but can't help the small grin on my face.

"Must've been a heck of a day," he notes, chuckling himself as he notices how I reacted to the memory.

Nick pipes in, "At the park? Really?"

"It was a nice day," I say with as much innocence as I can. "Anyway," I continue, "shall we try to find our way in since the front door clearly won't work?"

Both Robert and Nick laugh at my horrible excuse of a way out.

We walk around the entire building, trying to find an entrance point, but we come up short by the time we circle back to the front. "Can't go through, can't go under. Should we can try going over? Maybe there's a hatch on the roof," Nick suggests. Robert and I decide to check it out while Nick stays on the ground with Dogmeat. "Make sure you call me if you need my help. I'll be there in a jiff."

When we reach the roof, we gun down a few turrets and find a hatch—just like Nick said. "We'll be right back," Robert calls to the synth detective. "This won't take long." He winks at me as we open the hatch and descend into the fort.

* * *

There were synth patrols everywhere, but they were no match for our rifles. Even their motion detectors couldn't get a full read before they were lying on the ground, no longer able to be powered on.

So many synths… Gen 1s mostly. The few Gen 2s that were present didn't even pose much threat toward us. It was almost as if they were programmed to let us slip past them undetected.

Just to be on the safe side, we moved at a slow speed, always on high alert for danger. Around an hour later, a voice on the PA system booms out.

* * *

"There's my favourite TV dinner. I see you finally made it. I'm glad for you. Shows you have the drive to make it in this world." I can feel the angry aura seeping out of Robert behind me. _Always watching our backs._

"Can you hear me?" I ask the ceiling. Nothing. "Hey, douchebag?" Silence.

"It's probably a good thing he can't hear us," Robert retorts. "Cause he'd be hearing an earful from me right about now."

"You and me both," I agree.

"I'm going to pull the synths back, so you can come in freely," who I assume to be Kellogg continues.

"He couldn't have done that an hour ago?" I ask myself more than anyone.

As we continue forward, we walk into a room with some equipment in it that can't be Pre-War—or I'd recognize it—yet it's new and shiny. A small bed sits nearly in the middle of the room—a bed small enough that only a child could use it.

The PA speaks again. "Through the door and to the left. You don't need to worry about the synths. I sent them away. Let's talk."

I hear Robert mutter beside me, "Talk to the end of my gun, assh—buttwad."

As we walk into the room, it lights up and I see Kellogg standing at the other end. "You! You fuc—!" Robert grabs me from behind and holds me to him, not allowing me to charge at Kellogg as I was about to.

"Don't be reckless," he whispers in my ear. Seeing that I've calmed down considerably, he lets me go, save my wrist.

"As I said before, I'm glad to see you here." Hearing his voice again in person makes me cringe, but at the same time, all the more livid.

"Like hell you are," I spit at him. "You ruined me. My entire existence, and you're _glad_ to see me?!" Robert grips my wrist tighter, feeling the onslaught of fury about to erupt from me. I try to shake him off to no avail.

"It was just business. It was my job."

"It was my life!" I yell back at him. "You can't stand there and tell me that your _job_ was to ruin my life!" I struggle against my restraint even more. "Everything I had, gone in a matter of hours! EVERYTHING!" My eyes start leaking tears from my anger, my thrashing becomes weaker. I look down to the floor, Robert still holding onto my arm with utmost vigor despite my giving up on attacking the man before me.

Kellogg starts walking toward me. "It _was_ business. I know this isn't something you want to hear, or will even believe. But hear me out." He stops roughly five feet from me. "I'm sorry." I look up at him with newfound vengeance in my eyes. Seeing this, he steps back ever so slightly and continues.

"It's been… a while… since that day. I'll be the first to admit that I didn't care back then. I was just a ruthless mercenary working for the wrong people at the wrong time. I have changed.

"All this time, and I still think of that day. The sound of the boy's cry. The look of determination on your husband's features. But most of all, the horror in your eyes as you watched it all happen. There's nothing I can do to make up for what I did—nothing I can give you to even _touch_ what you lost. But I _do_ offer my sincerest apology. And I hope you'll learn to accept it and begin to move on." He shifts his gaze from my face to Robert's. "It looks like you already have started walking that road to recovery. I'm happy to see that." He looks back at me.

"I understand that all you want now is your son. I'd hate to continue to stand in your way. So, here." He walks over to a table with a terminal and picks up a large roll of paper. "These are schematics for a way to find him." He looks like he's about to walk them over to us, but by the look on both my and Robert's faces, he decides against this and instead rolls them on the floor toward us. "I hope you know someone that can build that. It'll make it _so_ much easier—you have no clue.

"I am truly sorry… Beth. I hope you'll learn to forgive me over time. I know it will be difficult. I still can't fully forgive those who took my wife and daughter from me. But it has gotten better—the resentment.

"I've lived long enough—I've done my damage. I can die now, and be okay with it. If it will help you with your grieving, do what you must."

Robert lets go of me and steps to the side, to see a clear shot of Kellogg as I aim for his head. A shot rings out, but not from my gun. Kellogg falls down, dead. A bullet to the brain. I look to my side to see smoke coming from Robert's rifle. As I'm about to be outraged at him for taking my kill, another shot is fired, and this time, Robert falls to the ground in a small splatter of blood. Looking to where I heard the shot from, I see a Gen 1 holding a .44, presumably Kellogg's. I raise my rifle at it and fire until it announces its systems are offline.

I bend down to Robert, laying on the floor, an enormous bullet wound on his outer thigh. For a few seconds, I'm screaming internally, until I realize it's not completely internal. _Why, why, why?!_

"What'd that thing use? A canon?!" He grunts while I try to think of what to do. Clearly in pain, he utters so quietly, I'm not even sure it's what he said, "Almost shot my balls off."

"Take it easy, he missed 'em by a mile." _Why am I joking around while I'm freaking out?! Okay, okay. What do I do? What did_ he _do when I get shot?_ I go into auto-medic as I remember what he did back in Goodneighbor.

I dig into one of his pouches and pull out a leather strip. _He used this when he pulled the bullet out._ I put it in his mouth and tell him to bite down like he had me do. Looking into the hole in his leg, I see the bullet and get ready to extract it. Making sure I have a Stimpak ready, I take a deep breath, and pull the piece of metal out with my own fingers. Injecting the Stimpak next to the bullet hole, I watch as it slowly heals up. I also remember him saying something about Med-X, so I find a syringe of that and inject it as well. After a couple minutes, the hole stops transforming and shows its final form—a very small and slightly puckered scar.

The Med-X must have really worked as he's no longer groaning in pain, instead, he's lying there calmly, looking up at me with a face I don't fully understand. I continue to stare at the scar I can see through the new hole in his pants, not knowing what to do from here.

He startles me by saying, "You did good." Looking up to his face, I see a small grin as he pins himself up on his elbows.

When he least expects it, I punch him in the arm as hard as I can, earning a surprised, "Ow! What was that for?"

"Everything!" I exclaim. In my mind, I think, _It was for holding me back, for killing Kellogg, for getting shot, for my dream last night that seems to have been closer to a premonition than a nightmare._ I know half these things aren't logical to blame on him, but with everything that just happened in rapid succession, I can't help the emotions as they course through me and escape in small tears.

Despite my irrational outburst at him, he looks at me worriedly. "What's wrong? Did you get hit?" He looks over me briefly and seems confused when he doesn't find any injuries. "You shouldn't be crying, Beth. Kellogg's gone now—you should be celebrating if anything."

"I don't feel like it," I say simply. In thought, however, I feel an influx of emotions. Joy that Nate has been avenged, anger that I wasn't able to do it myself, surprise and acceptance that it's over, and one I wouldn't expect: depression. What Kellogg was saying has some kind of sad impact on me. _He lost his family, too? Then why would he take a job like that, if he knew how it'd affect the person left?_ At the same time, I wonder, _How is he sorry?_ I can't wrap my head around the concept of him feeling remorseful for what he did. He was a mercenary, a ruthless killer for hire, an antisocial psychopath. _Why did he tell me he's sorry? Was it just a lie?_

Apparently, my brows had scrunched together, because Robert reaches up and smooths them out with his fingers. "C'mon. Let's take a look around and get the heck outta here." He gets to his feet and walks over to Kellogg's body, looking at his leather jacket. "Interesting armour," he comments. "Maybe I can use this. He's roughly my size." He starts to unclothe him as I pick up the paper off the floor he'd said was schematics. Tucking it into a nearby satchel, I throw it over my shoulder and continue to look throughout the room.

It looks like he'd been here a while. There's water bottles and food packages in a waste bin, a few decently intact books lying on a desk next to a terminal. Seeing the titles, I put them in the bag as well. _I'm surprised he'd read in the first place, especially_ Of Mice and Men _and_ Brave New World. There's also a book I've never heard of, called _The Woman in Black. Wonder if it's any good._ I put it in the bag along with the others, willing to give it a shot. Finding a few Stimpaks, I stash those, too. I don't even bother looking at the terminal. A part of me says, _But what if there's something to do with Shaun on it?_ The other part doesn't want to look due to the possibility of personal journal entries having to do with his past.

Robert comes up to me—a bag now on his shoulder also, carrying what seems to be all of Kellogg's outfit—and hands me a gun. Kellogg's pistol. The gun that killed Nate, the gun that could have taken my own life, or Robert's life ten minutes ago. I hold it in my hand, looking at it, deciding if I want to take it or leave it. Ultimately, I place it inside my bag along with the books and Stimpaks and start heading toward the door.

"You're not going to look at the terminal?" Robert asks me.

"No," I reply. "I'm ready to get Nick and Dogmeat and head home."

* * *

When we leave the building via the elevator, I see something in the sky like I've never seen in person before. _Is that… an airship?_

" _People of the Commonwealth: do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful._ "

Robert looks up to the giant balloon passing by. "It's the Brotherhood of Steel. What are they doing here?"

"You know who they are?" I ask.

"Yeah. Back in the Capital Wasteland, they're a force to be reckoned with." He shakes his head. "Never really cared for them and their military-ness. But I do have to hand it to them: they took out the Enclave and brought Project Purity to life ten years ago." Neither of those terms sound familiar to me, but I decide not to question them. He looks away from the zeppelin, to me. "Did you see the size of that airship? That's how you make an entrance."

* * *

When we reached the ground where we had left our other two companions, Nick looked like he wanted to be angry for not allowing him to go with us. _I could have noticed that synth and he never would have gotten shot in the first place,_ he pointed to Robert's leg. _Should've let me go…_

As we were nearing the Charles River on our way back to Diamond City, I noticed that my Pip-Boy was picking up a radio signal from Cambridge. After listening to it and choosing to check it out, Nick decided we should split ways and meet up at the Dugout later for a beer or something. So off he and Dogmeat went while Robert and I headed slightly north to the Cambridge Police Station.

Once we arrived, we saw that feral ghouls were all over the place. Whoever they were, they were sure keeping their own with their shiny laser weapons, but we decided to help anyway.

After the all ghouls were dead, a guy in a giant metal suit told us to meet him inside.

* * *

"Your help was appreciated out there, civilian. The name's Paladin Danse." Now that I have a good look at his face, I can't help but to practically stare at him. _So, he's good looking._

"Doesn't look like you could dance very easily in whatever that thing is," I remark.

"No. D-A-N _-S-_ E, not _C-_ E. That is my name. I am a Paladin in the Brotherhood of Steel. And this is a suit of power armour." He seems a bit perturbed at my comment.

"Oh. So, the airship people. Were you on that earlier?"

He clears his throat, clearly not having my ignorance. "Yes, the 'airship people.' But no, I have been here with my squad for a few days now." He sighs. "Do you have any other questions, civilian?"

"Um, yeah. Why are you guys here? Touring Boston or something?"

He looks around the room—almost like he's rolling his eyes. "We've come to the Commonwealth from the Capital Wasteland. We're looking for a place called 'the Institute.' Maybe you've heard of it. But then again, from your garments, I'd say you're 'new' to the wasteland." I look down to see I'm wearing my vaultsuit, as always.

 _The Institute?_ "I have heard of it. I actually need to find it, too."

"What could a vault member like you possibly want with the Institute?"

"Well… ex-vault member," I correct. "I was the only survivor, besides my son who was stolen from me while we were in it. And that is why I need to find the Institute. I have good reason to believe that's where he is."

"Your son, huh?" he asks. "What makes you think he didn't just fake a kidnapping and retreat there for refuge?"

I feel a spark of acid at his question. Letting myself become completely salty, I reply, "I don't think a three month old would stage his kidnapping from his mother, especially getting his father killed in the process." He doesn't say anything as he raises his eyebrows at me. "I don't know what you think you know, but I sure as hell know what I've been through. I've been through the Great War, I've seen the bombs fall. I've seen my son get stolen from his father's arms as he protested and payed the ultimate price for doing so. I am just a mother trying to find her son, and I'll be damned if I let you get in my way." I turn to Robert. "C'mon, let's go."

"Wait," Danse says as I reach for the doorknob. I turn my head toward him. "Maybe we can come to an agreement. I mean, we stand on mutual ground." Turning to him, he continues, "The more people looking for the 'Commonwealth Boogeyman,' the better. And since you think your son's there…"

"I _know_ he is," I come back.

"Come with me," he says, and walks through a door behind him. I look to Robert—looking for silent advice. He just shrugs. _Real frickin' helpful._

"You have a lot to learn," Danse says when we catch up to him. "The ways of the Brotherhood have been default for me for so long, but I realize everything will be different for you. I'll try my best to be supportive along the way." We step onto the roof and he climbs aboard a Vertibird.

"These things are still around?" I ask no one in particular.

"These are one of those things that fly, isn't it?" Robert asks me as we climb onto it after the Paladin. I nod and he swallows hard. I can't stop giggling at the sight of him being scared of it.

"It'll be fine," I assure him with a pat on the arm.

"Free spot next to the minigun, if you wish to take it," Danse suggests. "Vertibirds offer quite the view of the Commonwealth."

I grip onto a bar behind the pilot, and the engines start to whir and come to life. "Wanna stand by me?" I ask Robert. "I won't let you fall out." He gives me possibly the dirtiest look I've ever seen on his face, which makes me laugh all the more.

As we fly over Boston—the Commonwealth—I can't help but notice how desolate it is. Nobody is going about their business despite it being the time of normal rush hour—five o'clock in the evening. At this time, I'd have already left work, a full day of tending to files or making sure the firm was closed down for the day. I see the beautiful evening sun, making its way into the west, wanting to say goodbye to all the people that no longer travel on their daily commute. I feel somber, thinking all this as we make our way to the airport, toward the giant aircraft now hovering over it.

* * *

When we docked, Robert and I climbed off the Vertibird and are led by Paladin Danse to a man named Lancer-Captain Kells. They discussed how Danse had promoted me to Initiate among the ranks and how he personally sponsored me. I had to admit that this surprised me. He seemed so tentative to speak with me back at the police station.

I received a bit of suspicion from the Lancer-Captain, telling me that I didn't look like a soldier. I just told him how looks can be deceiving, to which he agreed, however hesitantly. He told me that I needed to attend an address from a guy named Elder Maxson. Danse stayed outside with the Lancer-Captain as I went inside to see what was going on.

When I got inside, a buffed dude in a sick looking coat was speaking in front of a group of half a dozen people. He spoke with authority and a sense of inspiration. He looked like he could be anywhere from his early twenties to his thirties—although his facial features told me he was closer to the former than the latter.

His speech was strong and filled with passion. For the second time today, I heard the word "Institute." _They must really want to find them, too,_ I thought.

After he is through with his monologue, I approach him for the "word" he wanted to have with me.

* * *

"I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth." I'm not sure what I've been expecting, but the tone he uses catches me off guard. He sounded so tough when he was speaking before the other members of the Brotherhood. His tone now is almost… sad.

"Looks to me like you're preparing for a war, Elder," I comment.

"We are. But one we're initiating ourselves before a worse one erupts." He takes a step back and leans against the railing. "You know, from Paladin Danse's talk of you, you've become quite the distinguished Initiate."

My eyes go wide. "I didn't know he talked about me. I haven't even done anything for the Brotherhood."

"Untrue," he refutes. "You helped them at the Cambridge Police Station when they were being overrun by feral ghouls. Most people would have kept going or stood by to watch."

"I heard the distress call that someone needed help. It would have been unlike me to ignore it."

"All the same, it is appreciated." He shifts his weight on the rail.

After a second, in small talk, I say, "So, you're looking for the Institute. Funny thing." He looks up at me. "I am as well."

"What could a vault dweller want with the Institute?" _What is it with them and their questions?_ I think of Danse asking a similar question earlier.

"Well… long story short: my son was kidnapped by them, and I need to find him."

He raises his brows. "A child, you say?" He looks down and shakes his head. "Will they ever have boundaries?" He looks back to me. "Is that why you are here?"

I answer what I know to be true. "I didn't know you guys—the Brotherhood—was here for them. I've been looking for him for a few months now. And when Paladin Danse said something about it, and made a remark I wasn't too fond of, I lashed out. He wanted me to follow him. We boarded a Vertibird, and here I am."

"I see." He stands up. "I can see from your suit that you are from a vault. Nearby?"

"Sort of," I say. "It's to the north, near Concord. Vault 111, if you've heard of it."

"Yes, I have. It's exed. Only a sole survivor remained." He gets a look in his eyes, close to humour. "So, you're the 111 popsicle."

Robert—having been standing behind me—makes a move toward the "Elder." "Don't you dare call her that! She can't help it!"

"Protective, I see. And who is this?"

Not even sure what to call him, I say, "This is my… partner, sir."

"Partner? Will this be of any hindrance for you, soldier?" He eyes Robert up, making him all the more upset.

"No, sir. He's with me, one hundred percent."

Seeming assured, he moves on from the subject. "You seem extremely comfortable in a militaristic environment."

"My husband was ex-military before the War. I'm semi-familiar with this setting."

He nods his head, impressed. "Good. Makes it easier for both parties." Looking past me to a giant ladder-type thing, he says, "Walk around the ship, get to know the staff. You'll do just fine here. Welcome aboard the Prydwen, soldier. Ad victoriam." He does this weird salute and turns around, staring down into Boston.

Not sure what to do now, I turn to see Robert's face all red. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like him." He isn't being quiet, showing he doesn't care if the Elder hears him.

"It's fine," I say. "You don't have to." We start to walk back toward the Vertibirds. "I'm just here for Shaun, remember? We don't have to like them period. They're looking for the Institute. We'll do better with them than without them. I mean," I look around us, "look at their toys. I think that's the proof in the pudding right there."

"You know I don't know what that means." He looks at me with a flat look.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter. What matters is that I get that paper to someone that can help us." I think of the schematics Kellogg gave us. "I'm coming, Shaun."

* * *

 _A/N: Catch the Mafia 2 reference in there? No? Okay... lol_

 _Anywho, I kind of felt some sympathy for Kellogg when his story was being told in FO4. I don't really know why. But this is the first big AU thing I've done so far_ — _I believe. I wanted to give him more of a "likable" personality for some reason. This was the result, I suppose._


	13. 12 Melancholy Moments

12\. Melancholy Moments

Beth POV

 _Breathe Me_ by Sia

After walking around the Prydwen, I started to feel much better about the Brotherhood of Steel. Before, I was just here to use their knowledge and technologies to find Shaun. But after talking to Proctors Teagan, Ingram, and Quinlan, I better understood that they weren't just a group looking to better the world, but they were actually a family. Every member of the BOS cared for one another. And now, finding myself among their ranks, I see that they care about me, too.

"Who even asks questions like that?" Robert asks me after visiting Knight-Captain Cade. "I mean, who would go around 'seeing' anybody that's not even human?"

"You heard him. There's been enough people apparently that that has to be a question, I guess."

"That's disgusting," he shakes his head, revolted by the idea.

As we're heading through the mess hall, we run into Danse. "Paladin," I greet.

"Soldier," he returns. "I'm glad to have bumped into you."

"Why is that?" I ask.

"I've been curious how the talk went with Elder Maxson, if you don't mind me asking."

"Oh. No, not at all. It went well," I start. "In his address, he talked about the goal of finding and destroying the Institute. I felt relieved, finally knowing what it is the Brotherhood is in Bost—I mean, the Commonwealth for. Looking around, I feel like I ran into the right people at the right time. As you said at the station, we stand on mutual ground."

"Yes, we do."

"Which leads me to a question for you, Paladin."

"You can drop the Paladin, if you wish. Danse is fine with me."

Surprised by his insistence for casualness, I stutter, "O-okay. Anyway," I continue, "what changed your mind back there?"

His brows crease. "What do you mean?"

"When I first came into the police station, you acted like I was just an annoyance. I recognize that you were grateful for our assistance, but you seemed like you couldn't wait for us to leave. Once you mentioned the Institute and I lashed out at you for commenting negatively toward my son, you changed dramatically. You wanted me to follow you immediately, bringing us here to talk with your boss for a job, so to say. I just wonder why that was."

"Oh," he says, seeming shocked by my observations.

"Do you know anything about my past?" I ask him.

"You're from before the War," he answers.

"Yes," I agree. "I was a lawyer. I had to make observations for a living. And if I may brag, I was pretty good at it. So, there's no need to be surprised that I noticed a change in your attitude."

"Fair enough." He still acts slightly unsettled by my awareness at the station. "I, too, noticed something. At first, I do admit, I was a bit annoyed. My squad and I had had it rough since arriving there in Cambridge. All I needed was another local coming through and wasting our time. But once I did make that remark, and you started to get upset at me, I could see something in you that I was not expecting. I saw a fire in your eyes and I heard determination in your voice. Those two things are what we look for in our brothers and sisters here in the Brotherhood. And since you're looking for the same place we are, we might as well look together, right? That's what changed my mind."

I nod my head. "Well, I think that that was a good decision, Danse," I tell him.

"I believe so. Make us proud, soldier. Ad victoriam!" He does the same salute Maxson did after we spoke.

"Um, can I ask another question?"

Thinking I was about to leave, he seems a bit surprised. "Of course."

"What does that mean? I have a feeling I'm going to hear it a lot and I'd like to know."

"It is Latin for 'to victory'—something we are striving for always. It is the exclamation for us Brotherhood soldiers, so yes, you will hear it very often."

* * *

After speaking with Danse and boarding a Vertibird to take Robert and I to the ground, we decided to head back to Diamond City.

When we got to the Dugout, Nick was there as he said he'd be. _How many hours have you been waiting?_ I asked. It was nearing nine in the evening and I was shocked to see him there still. We had our "celebratory" beers and discussed what went down inside the fort all those hours ago. Talking about it still made me sour. I wasn't sure why. I thought I'd be happy to be rid of Kellogg, but time was proving otherwise. Was it because he was so willing to help me find my son, or was it due to the talk of his family that had been stolen from him, too?

Either way, Nick, Robert, and I talked about the events after we parted ways. He couldn't believe that I, a Pre-War housewife, had somehow made my way into a military-style faction. _Initiate, huh? That's impressive. I wonder if you'll work your way up the ranks,_ Nick had said, seeming a bit unhappy about my decision to join the BOS. But as long as I was able to get support from them in my search for Shaun, he wouldn't object too much.

After catching up with Nick, Robert and I are ready to head home to relax from the day's occurrences.

* * *

Setting my rifle next to the door alongside his, I move toward the end of the living room near the workbench. We had put a few cabinets and a small table and couple chairs between the big room and the living room to suffice as a kitchen for those days when we didn't feel like noodles.

"Want anything?" I ask.

"Heck yeah. I've starving." He moves into the "kitchen," sitting on one of the chairs as I bring a plate of leftover mirelurk cakes to the table. We put a couple onto our plates and dig in after a long day.

For several minutes, we eat in silence, happy to have food in our stomachs finally. But as I eat, I think of what happened this morning—how I wasn't the one to kill Kellogg. The more I think about it, the more it bothers me. And I have no idea why.

"What are you thinking?" Robert asks suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

I look up, surprised. "About today. Why?"

"You're never this quiet, and you're kinda worrying me."

"Oh." I look down, picking the last couple bites of cake apart with my fork.

"So, what are you thinking about from today?" _Pushy much?_ I think.

Deciding that it may be a good idea to talk about it, I say, "I'm thinking about Kellogg." I look up at his face. "Why did you kill him?"

"Cause you were about to," he looks a little confused.

"No, I actually wasn't," I clarify. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it, but at the moment, I wasn't going to."

A combination of guilt and surprise colour his face. "Oh." A few seconds later, a timid, "Why not?"

I think about it for a second. "I don't know, really." I scoot my cake around the plate. "I mean… I shouldn't have hesitated but I did. He… deserved to die." Saying this doesn't feel quite right to me, like the words shouldn't be in the same sentence. _Did he actually deserve to die?_ A part of my inner conscience questions it.

"He did," Robert agrees. "I'm sorry I took the opportunity away from you, Beth. But I saw you hesitating, and… I don't know. I know what he did to you, and I _wanted_ him dead, so I took the shot. And I'm sorry for it." _So, he killed him because of the pain he inflicted on me?_

"You weren't even there," I say.

"I didn't need to be. I can see it everytime you talk about it, everytime you have a nightmare. I didn't need to be there to _see_ what he did to you. I needed him dead for you, because seeing you like that hurts me. So, I guess in a way, I needed him dead for me, too. And that's kinda selfish." He waits a minute before continuing. "I _am_ sorry, Beth. It was wrong of me to just assume and make the kill. Forgive me?"

"Of course," I reply automatically. There's no need in thinking that one through—it's a given. _No matter how sorry he is, it won't bring Kellogg back. What if he could have helped us?_ "Shut up," I say to the voice in my head. _Why is that voice so prominent today? I don't like it…_

"What?" Robert sounds surprised and a little confused by my saying this out loud. He must think I told _him_ that.

"Nothing," I say, not wanting to get into my reasoning for telling myself to be quiet. However confused, he just nods while looking at me, his brows knit together in concern.

We'd moved some of my books downstairs so we could curl up together on the couch and read—apparently I'd gotten him to like books more. After we'd moved to the living room when we were through eating, I sit for a little bit reading distractedly. No longer able to concentrate on my book anymore, I say, "I think I'm gonna try to get some sleep," and stand to go upstairs.

"Uh, okay." He looks after me with yet another confused face as I walk up the steps into our room.

I sit on the bed, taking off my boots, Pip-Boy, and glasses. Setting them in their normal nightly spots, I lay on the bed, facing the wall. I'm not very tired, but I just don't feel like doing anything. I've been staring at the wall for a few minutes when I hear Robert coming up the stairs.

After placing his cap and duster in their respective spots on the dresser, he sits on the side of the bed and takes off his boots. He doesn't say anything until he's lying on his back behind me. "Beth." It's not a question, it's not a demand. It _is_ full of concern and a bit of anxiety.

"Hm?"

"Do I need to be worried?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been acting weird today. I don't know if it's just because your memories came back and you were forced to look them in the eye, or if it's something else. But I hate to see you like this. So, if it's not anything to be worried about, please tell me, so I can just wait it out with you."

I suddenly feel bad for my behaviour. I have been distant, not my normal chatty self. Usually, I tell him if I'm feeling bad—talking about my problems has always helped me. But not today, so I can see why he's upset. I turn to face him and he looks at me expectantly.

"I really don't know," I respond. "I feel… weird. Like a huge weight has been lifted off me. But at the same time, it's like a huge one's been added.

"Kellogg _handed_ me what can help us find Shaun. Who's to say that if he were still alive, he'd be out here, actively searching for him with us. Shoot, if he knew where he was, who's to say he wouldn't just walk us there himself? I've been thinking about that all day.

"That and how he said his wife and daughter were taken from him, too. Just like Nate and Shaun were from me. Almost makes me feel bad for him—like maybe he took jobs like that to sort of take revenge on those who took his family somehow.

"Plus, me joining the Brotherhood of Steel. I'm not even sure how I feel about _that._ Nate was the military between the two of us. How am I supposed to live in a militaristic environment? Can I even handle it? Can I even—"

Robert cuts me off by placing his hand on my own. "I don't have any answers. And I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I could tell you what will happen, how things need to go for us to get Shaun. But I am here _every_ step of the way. I want you to know that. I'm not leaving, no matter how tough things get. We'll figure this out together. If it will make you feel better, I'll join the Brotherhood myself—if they'd even allow it. Boss-man didn't seem too pleased with my presence alone. But if I have to brown-nose to make rank, I'll do it. Anything." He looks at me with eyes I can't even fathom. They're full of care and so much love. I never thought I'd be looked at like this again. But yet, here he is. So willing to do anything for me.

I scoot closer to him, tucking my head into the crook of his arm as he wraps his arms around me. I don't verbalize it, but he knows I'm grateful beyond all reason. As we lay here, my thoughts start to finally calm down and wander into various places. I decide to let him know what's on my mind after several minutes.

"Hey, Robert?"

"Hm?"

"You know what we should do?" I sit up onto my elbow a little.

"What should we do?" He puts one of his arms behind his head.

"We should build a house."

He raises his eyebrows. "Us? Build a house?" I nod. "I know I learn more about you every day, but I swear, Beth. If you tell me you were a carpenter, too, I'm gonna… do something." He thinks for a second. "I'm gonna tickle you." He chuckles a little when he sees me smile at him, happy to see me getting back to normal.

"You'd tickle me, huh?" I ask him, raising my own brow with a smirk. "Well, I _have_ built some stuff," I challenge him.

"Oh? Like what?" He raises his arm, preparing his tickle hand.

"Like a couple bird houses." He inches his hand closer. "And maybe a few cabinets." Closer. "…Possibly a chair or two."

He closes the gap, wiggling his fingers against my ribs until I start squealing. Amused, he continues his attack against my nerves, threatening to never stop, even as I call, "Uncle!"

"Don't know what that means!" he calls over the din of my giggle fit.

Finally, I get the upper hand and grab his wrists, binding them together with the little force I can manage, and climb on top of him. "Gotcha!" I look down at him with a triumphant smile. From the look on his own face, I'd guess he let me have the advantage.

"I love you." His words are so sudden, so passionate, they catch me off guard. I lose my balance, fall straight down, and almost head butt him in the process. I stare at him in wide-eyed horror for a second before realizing he's smiling. _Will I ever love anybody else this easily?_ I think to myself. Looking him in the eye, I bend down the last few inches and connect my lips with his. I marvel in how soft they are. _Seems like after a lifetime without lip balm they'd be chapped_ really _bad in this dusty wasteland. Annnd there goes my mind again. Shut up._ I continue to kiss him, deliberately ignoring the annoying voice in the back of my head.

After a few seconds, his hand stretches around my waist, holding me to him. I move my own hand up to his face, caressing the stubble there, feeling the shape of his jaw. And soon, I realize we're going places we never have before. I _really_ don't want to stop, but at the same time, I don't feel ready. Pulling away from him, I look away, afraid I'm hurting him, making him feel rejected.

"I… Sorry," I say.

He reaches up to my neck, cupping his hand around the back of it. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because I pulled away." I keep my gaze averted from his face, afraid to see despondency there.

He rubs his hand gently on my neck. "I'm sure you have your reasons. I'm just so lucky to call you mine." I finally look at him. He has a small grin pasted onto his mouth. "I mean. What're the chances? I'm sitting in a room, separated from the world, when a Pre-War beauty like you walks in. Then to find out that my feelings for you are reciprocated? One in a million odds, right there." Compassion touches his eyes. "So, whatever your reason, it's not rude to me. You don't need to apologize."

"Well," I start. "I'm ready to show you how much I love you, too. But… I don't know. I just don't feel ready at the same time. I really don't know how to explain it."

"You don't have to," he says. "I'll wait as long as it takes." I shake my head, laughing lightly. "What's funny?"

"It's just strange. Not that long ago, we're like complete strangers. Then, after traveling for just a little while, we've developed some sort of connection. It's almost like magic. I used to not believe in it, but with everything I've seen, I'm not so sure anymore. This is just the cherry on top." I bend down and peck him on the lips, and settle down next to him again.

A minute later, he says, "Hey, whenever you _are_ ready, just say the word, okay?"

Laughing, "You're a man. I won't even have to say the word."

Chuckling himself, "No, you won't. You're right on that one."

Feeling more and more like myself, I fall into a deep slumber.


	14. 13 We Have Etrinity

13\. We Have Etrinity

MacCready POV

 _Cat's In The Cradle_ by Harry Chapin

Beth had decided to take a few days before going back to the Brotherhood. As grateful as she is, she wanted to take some time to focus on other, happier things.

I wake up before she does. She's taking up most of the bed—her figure practically stretched out like a starfish. So, I'm on the extreme edge, wondering how long it's been like this.

I shuffle a little bit to the side and get up, looking down at her. Her mouth is open wide, a small dribble of spit running down the side of her face, and her hair's a complete wreck. _She's so cute._ I turn to the nightstand and pick up her Pip-Boy, tuning into Classical Radio. Even though it used to bother me some, it hasn't since she told me why she listens to it. Associating it with her dad makes it special for her, and I can easily live with that.

Putting the Pip-Boy back down, I head downstairs. _Wonder if she'll be hungry. What do we have here._ I open the old ice cooler we installed a couple days ago. It's filled with various meats and vegetables. I rummage around to see if we have any leftover iguana soup, but after coming up empty, I close the hatch and just stand here, thinking. _Should I try to cook something? I don't even know if I can—she's always the one to make food. I do watch her though._ I think for a second. _Okay, maybe I watch_ her _, and not really what she's doing. Ah, screw it._

I open the hatch again, pulling out a leg of mole rat and a couple tatos. _These go together, right?_ I look around the kitchen for a pan or something and find one on the shelf above the stove. Putting it down on a burner, I stare at it. _Next?_ I look around, pleased to be reminded of oil when I see a bottle of it. I set it down on the cabinet next to the stove and move to the other side, readying a knife for cutting the meat. _The part I'm most acquainted with._ I raise the kitchen knife to chop it when I hear a startled, "Woah!" Turning around quickly, I see Beth at the foot of the stairs, looking confused. However, as I turn, I nick myself with the blade I'd all but forgotten was in my hand.

"Ah!" I exclaim in surprise more than pain. Running up to me, she looks scared.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. Surprised me is all." I look at the slice. It's bigger than I expected.

Going upstairs quickly to the first aid on the wall, she comes back with some gauze. Reaching into the liquor cabinet by the door, she grabs a half bottle of Bobrov's best. "Isn't that stuff gonna eat my flesh or something?" I ask her.

"Shh," she responds, prepping the gauze and moonshine. "It's just about the best thing we have right now." She leans my hand over the sink and says, "This is gonna hurt a little bit," as she pours the liquor over the small gash.

"Ow! That hurts more than it did to actually get cut!" I try pulling my hand away but her grip might as well be a vice.

"Will you stop it?" she all but demands. "I'm trying to help you here."

"Doesn't feel like it…"

"Alright, you big baby." She rolls her eyes at me with a smirk. Taking the gauze, she gently wraps it around my hand and secures it. "What are you doing in here anyway?" She looks over to my workspace and gawks.

"Well, we ran out of leftovers… and I wanted to surprise you. Plus, I'm hungry." She laughs.

"Well, you sure did a good job at surprising me. What's with the radio?" She asks as she makes her way to the cabinet, inspecting what could have been breakfast by now.

"Thought you'd like waking up to it," I say, following her as she looks around the kitchen, trying to figure out what I was going to make. _I don't even know what I was gonna make myself._

"So, mole rat and tatos, huh?"

"Why do you sound disappointed?"

"I'm not," she chuckles. "Just interesting choice for breakfast."

"Well, I don't know what's considered breakfast food!" She laughs again. "What?" I ask a little aggressively.

"You just did it again. Got mad over something small? It's fine, Robert. I said interesting, not that it's wrong or bad. Just different from what I'd make."

Trying to alleviate the attitude, I ask, "Well, what would you make, then?"

She looks into the cooler. Pulling out a few mutfruits and some razorgrain, she says, "This."

I stare at her. "What are you gonna do with that?"

"C'mere. I'll show you."

Stepping toward the counter, I watch as she chops the mutfruit into quarters then puts them in a largish bowl. Taking a wooden spoon, she starts to mash them until they start to break down. "Wanna try?" she asks, looking over to me.

"Sure." My answer must not have been very confident from the sound of her light chuckle. Once she sees I'm actually not sloshing the pulpy fruit all over the place, she scoots down the counter a bit and takes a few pieces of razorgrain. "What are you gonna do with those?"

Without looking to me, she says, "Use the seeds." She plucks apart the big part from the rest of it. Opening the pods on the end, she puts the seeds into the bowl along with the mutfruit. She takes the bowl and spoon from me, mixing it vigorously until it's some sort of juice looking stuff. After setting the bowl on the counter, she suddenly lunges toward the shelf on the other side of the cooler. "Almost forgot." She brings out a box of Sugar Bombs and crushes some inside the bowl and mixes it in as well. After pouring some of this strange concoction into a couple glasses, she hands me one and says, "Breakfast food," with a wink.

I take a sip. And immediately chug as much as I can. Setting the glass down onto the counter, I say, "Wow, that was good. How come you never made this before?"

"Cause I just came up with it," she laughs.

"You can make up something that good on the spot?" I ask.

"Guess so. It is pretty good."

"It's more than pretty good," I counter. "Is there more?" I look into the bowl, happy to see more awaits me.

Smiling, "You know, if you're this happy with _this_ stuff, you should have seen my mom's improv skills in the kitchen. She could make a meal taste brand new by using four leftover dishes."

"That takes talent," I say around a bite of pulp.

"Sure did," she says, still smiling. _I'm glad she has happy memories about her parents._ "So, what's your rating?"

"Million outta ten." I put my glass down. "Stuff sure fills you up quick," I say with a grimace. "So, be careful."

"Well at least I'm not chugging enough for two in a matter of seconds," she retorts with a smirk.

"True." I move toward the couch—waddling from how I feel. She sits down next to me, taking her time on the drink. "I never knew you could do that with mutfruit," I say, astounded from her food skill.

"Oh, I'm sure there's other stuff." She giggles.

"Like what?"

"Nothing. I'll show you sometime." She giggles again, and I swear I see her cheeks turn a faint pink colour.

* * *

Later in the evening, we decide to go for a walk outside the Wall. I don't know why _outside_ the Wall, but that's where we end up going. We find ourselves at Trinity Church and go in. There's a few super mutants toward the back, but nothing several clips couldn't handle. After they're dead, we walk around to see what we can find.

"Hey, look what I found," Beth says from around the pulpit. Walking up to her, she hands me something.

" _Astoundingly Awesome Tales!_ " I look up at her. "Thanks!" I tuck it into the satchel on my shoulder I had actually thought to bring.

Continuing to move through the church proves useful. We run into some books which excites Beth, as it usually does.

"Your bookshelf is either going to break down or run out of room with as many books as you're putting on it."

"I'll just build another one then," she teases, winking at me. "You know, since I'm a carpenter apparently."

"Hush," I say with a smirk, making her chuckle. I think for a second. "So, you're serious about building a house, huh?"

"Well, yeah." She sounds like it's obvious. "Home Plate's great, but it's not really a _home_. It feels too much like a warehouse to me." She picks up a random bottle of wine and puts it into my bag. "I like windows."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I chuckle. "Any idea where to build?"

"Not really. I hear Nordhagen Beach is quiet. I'd just like to be out of the way—have a nice, wide open space. As comfy as Sanctuary was, it was kinda cramped."

"Starlight Drive-In could be an option, then. It has a lot of room, and it's not too far from Sanctuary, in case you want to be close."

She makes a face. "It would be nice sometimes. But, I think I've had my fill of Sanctuary for now."

I nod. Thinking for a second, I say, "What about that cottage up by Salem?"

"Certainly doesn't hurt to think about," she says with a shrug.

As our conversation progressed, we had moved from the back of the basement up to the front. I definitely was not expecting what I came face-to-face with.

She walks into the nursery and picks up a teddy bear. "Well, here's another one." She glances up from the toy in her hands. "Must've had a big congregation to have a nursery this big." She steps over to me to put the bear into my shoulder bag. Seeing my face, she asks, "What's wrong?"

I sniffle, "It's nothing… Just got something in my eye."

She sets the bear down and lifts my face with her hand. "No, you didn't. What's wrong?" she repeats. I stare at her, no longer able to hide the tear falling down the side of my face.

"Just thinking about Duncan, you know?" I quickly wipe my cheek.

"He's fine. We got the cure to Daisy a week ago. It should be there by now—he's probably causing all kinds of trouble, like his dad." I smile a little bit.

"No, I know he's better. He has to be by now, like you said. But… I'm thinking about back when he was a baby—wishing I was able to find a crib or something like that for him." I look over her shoulder. "Wished I could have provided better for him—wish I could _now._ " I shake my head, angry. "Up and leaving him like that—some father I am."

"You're doing all you can."

"Am I?" I ask. "Cause to me, it seems like I just left him. I know I couldn't bring him with me, with his condition and all that. But, now that he's probably better, and there with no family, it's not all that different from how I was raised when I was a kid. And I _swore_ I'd never let him go through that—I want him to have a better upbringing than I did."

"It's not like you left him alone, though. I know you better than that."

"No," I say. "I didn't. But, they're not _me,_ you know?"

"Yeah," she says. "Nothing like a parent." She pats my arm. "I'm sure you left him in good company, though."

"I did," I agree. "Remember Kate?"

"The vault dweller?"

"Yeah, that's the one. I left him with her, her husband, and their son."

"Oh, I didn't know they had a kid. But, I don't know much about them to begin with, so…"

"What do you know?"

"That they're both from Vault 101, and that she's very adventurous."

"That's them alright. But, yeah. They live in Megaton now, not too far from 101."

"Oh, yeah. I remember you saying that now."

"Yeah. They have a son named Ellis—he's a year or so older than Duncan, so they're kind of like brothers." I sit against the wall next to the crib and she follows, sitting next to me. "I couldn't have found better people to leave him with.

"When he first got sick—since Lucy had already passed—the first person I thought of was Kate. I was a complete assh—er… jerk… to her when I first met her. Running Lamplight as mayor, I had to be protective of the other kids, so that meant being wary of _everyone_ that showed up at our gate. She was no exception—she was just a mungo after all.

"But, she took her time and was really nice to us. She never threatened us or anything, even at the gate when I was being really rude. Once I opened the gate and allowed her in, she spoke with a lot of the kids as if we weren't some kind of creepy underground commune. She and Lucy really hit it off."

"So, you knew Lucy from Little Lamplight?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you more about it later—just… not now…"

"That's fine," she pats my knee. "Go ahead."

"But yeah, she got along great with everyone. She was great with kids. So, when Duncan got sick, I thought of her first. I hadn't talked to her since Duncan's birth, but I heard she lived in Megaton. So, off I went.

"When I got there, Butch—her husband—opened the door. He looked at me, confused for a minute, before calling her. I think he started to recognize me.

"When she got to the door, she somehow instantly recognized me, throwing herself forward to give me a hug. 'Mayor MacCready?!' She invited me in and we talked for a few minutes before I brought up the reason I was there.

"She couldn't believe that one, Lucy and I had actually gotten married, two, that we had a son, and at such a young age, and three, that he was as sick as I said he was. She didn't want to believe me. She'd looked at Ellis, and I imagine she was horror-stricken at the just the thought of it being reversed—at the thought of her son being so sick that he could die.

"I told her that I'd heard rumours of a cure up here in the Commonwealth by a guy named Sinclair. I didn't even have to ask—they were the ones to ask me if I wanted them to keep him while I came up here to find it.

"So, I went to get him from our house not too far from a small town called Arefu. I packed my bag, however lightly, and headed back to Megaton. I'll never forget the way he looked at me when I said I didn't know when I'd be back—I thought I'd die from the memory of it alone.

"But, it did help to see Duncan and Ellis getting along. Butch said that Ellis had always gotten on well with everyone in Megaton, but he was jealous of Duncan up until their meeting. They looked like they were doing great, so that did help me cope with my choice.

"Kate assured me that they were going to do their best with him. She wrote me a few times, asking questions about him. Like if he was a picky eater or what his sleeping arrangements were at home.

"Still, it bothered me, knowing that _I_ wasn't the one taking care of him when he needed me most. It still bothers me."

"We should move, then—you need to be with him. Screw building the house here."

"No, we still have to find Shaun. Plus, I don't wanna rip you away from your home." I'd been thinking about this for a little while and finally come to an answer. "We'll move here." My tone is absolute—no negotiations.

"Are you serious?" Her eyes are so rounded, they appear they could fall out at any moment.

"Of course. New start and all that. We should probably get the house built and find Shaun first, though. It'd be nice to live here. I've come to actually prefer the Commonwealth over the Capital Wasteland."

She's so shocked, she can't get past what I first said. "I can't believe you'd do that for me." Her face alone reveals her bewilderment, not including the stupefied tone to her voice.

"Is it so shocking that I would?"

"A little, yeah."

"I don't know why," I respond. "Seems to me I've made my feelings clear enough." I grin at her.

After a minute, the bafflement subsides and she goes to stand. She puts out her hand for me.

"I guess you don't remember what happened last time you offered to help me up?" I laugh, my mood refreshed now.

She thinks for a second then facepalms. "Mass Pike Interchange," she says. "You pulled me down instead of me pulling you up."

"Yeah," I chuckle as I grab her hand and pull her down anyway. Looking down at her on my lap, I smile. Shaking her head at me, she grins herself. I continue, "You know… I don't know what karma I cashed, but… I definitely don't deserve someone as good as you."

She slaps my leg, then stands. Looking at me on the floor still, "Don't you dare say that! You're far better than everyone else, and don't you forget it!" She walks over to where she laid the teddy bear down earlier and bends down, putting in into my bag. Looking at me, "Got it?"

I grin. "Got it." She turns toward the steps to leave.

Seeing that I haven't moved yet, she says, "I'm done here. You coming?"

"Yeah. Let's head home." I stand up and fall into step a couple feet behind her, wondering how I was so lucky to have ran into this woman. _Things are looking up finally._

* * *

 _A/N: I found it kind of sweet in-game how MacCready gets a little teary-eyed in Trinity Church when you near the nursery. I just had to add it in somewhere._

 _So, it landed and built it's nest here in this chapter. I think I'll keep it. I named it Bob._


	15. 14 Home

14\. Home

Beth POV

 _Like Home (Radio Edit)_ by Nicky Romero & NERVO

"Hey, Robert! Guess what!" I say as I walk into Home Plate. I see him lounging on the couch with his feet propped up, and his new favourite book—a collection of Edgar Allan Poe stories and poems—in hand. _I don't know how this isn't destroyed by now,_ he'd said when he found it.

He looks up at me, placing a bookmark in the volume and closing it. He laughs, "What?"

"No, guess," I insist.

"Um, okay…" He puts his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Dinosaurs are now roaming the earth again with every other abomination in this wasteland. And, not only are they back from extinction, but they can be cultivated enough to become our pets, and we can ultimately ride them into battle." After a second, "I call bids on the pteranodon!"

After trying to abstain from laughing, and failing miserably, I scoff. Trying to regain my composure, I just end up making myself look ridiculous. "Fine. I call bids on the velociraptor then!" Giggling, "Close, but no. Unfortunately. I learned of a place to build!"

"Oh, yeah? Let's hear it."

"So, I was at Arturo's," I toss him a bag with 5.56 ammo in it, "when I hear someone say 'it's getting out of hand.' So, naturally I wanted to find out what the topic was. I go up to him, ask him what he's talking about, and he drops a name on me. I had no idea it still existed!" I start pacing the room in excited anticipation.

"Wait, what place?" He moves his feet from the couch cushions to the floor and leans forward a bit.

"Spectacle Island!"

He leans against the couch, raising his eyebrows. "You want to live on Mirelurk Island." His tone doesn't even make it into a question.

"That's not what I called it." I'm confused, thinking he has a completely different island in mind.

"I know. But that's the name most people call it these days. The place is overrun by 'lurks."

"Nothing we can't handle." _I'm sure we've dealt with worse._

He stands up, moving toward me. "No. Seriously, Beth. The place is _overrun._ I'm not talking just four or five. Last I heard, nobody came back alive when they went there. Whoever dibbed it _Mirelurk_ Island had it right. I haven't even been here in the Commonwealth all that long compared to most, and _I_ know to stay away from it." He stands right in front of me. "Why do you wanna live there so bad anyway?"

"Didn't know I made it so obvious." He just raises his brow, like, _Really?_ "I used to go there sometimes with my parents or grandparents when I was a kid. It used to be like a park. We'd go swimming or hiking and eat at a café there. Those were good times." I think of the time my granddad had almost fallen into the water when he was fishing too vigorously and chuckle.

Robert's face tells me he's thinking hard about it. After a minute, he sighs and says, "Well, it does have a lot of space. And it's far from everyone. Most probably wouldn't even think to go out there since the last they heard was about its infestation…"

"So, is that a yes?" I ask hopefully.

He sighs again. "We'll scope it out. But if it's too dangerous, we're pulling back and building somewhere else, okay?"

I squeal in delight. "Thanks!" I hug him.

He pats my back, clearly not too enthused from my choice of location. "Anything for you, dear." His voice is incredibly drab, but I know he means it deep down. _Wait. Dear?_

* * *

"How are we even supposed to get building materials out here anyway?" Robert asks as we boat our way to the north end of Spectacle Island.

"Like we are right now, I guess."

"We can _not_ take a row boat with supplies on it back and forth for ten years. I'd like to live somewhere _soon_ , not when I'm old."

"We'll try our best to find a powered boat somewhere, okay?" _He's kinda cranky right now. Probably since he's the one rowing._

We finally reach the edge of the island and slowly drag the boat onto land. As quiet as we can be, we scan the landscape. It's better than I thought it'd be. Although it's not in as good condition as it was when I was here last, it's better than any other plot of land I'd seen.

"I love it!" I say a little too loudly. With him hushing me silently, we hear a Mirelurk pop up out of the ground like they do. He gives me an exhausted look— _You did it now,_ it says.

He guns it down, and since his rifle isn't suppressed, two more 'lurks hear it and resurface as well. Charging at us, we have no choice but to shoot, which draw another four in our direction.

"I swear if they keep doubling!" he yells over the gunfire.

* * *

We continued to slay the giant mutated crabs left and right. It seemed like there was no end to them. _They were right in renaming this Mirelurk Island,_ I thought to myself as I killed my tenth beast.

After all the killclaws and glowing Mirelurks were dead, out popped a king. His sonic "boom" was so loud, I lost my hearing for a few minutes—which I had to admit was kind of nice, as I was getting tired of hearing all the racket our guns were making.

Finally, once all the mutated crabs are dead, we stumble upon a smallish shack in the middle of the island, on the highest point. We decide to investigate it.

* * *

"Are you kidding me?" Robert grumbles after I read the note out loud. "We couldn't have found that _before_ we killed enough Mirelurks to feed the entire Commonwealth twice?"

I shrug as we walk south to the tugboat. "Well, at least they won't come back." Flipping the switch to the generator aboard the boat, we hear it hum to life, providing power to the island.

Once the beacon was turned on, I start to look around for a place to build. "Help me."

"I don't know where you want it," he says, still grumpy from having to face so many 'lurks.

"Just think: when you wake up in the morning, what's a view you'd never get tired of."

He sighs, glancing around. "Well… I've always liked the skyline of the city."

"Okay. West side, it is."

"That easy?" he asks.

"Well, I kinda did pick the place. So, you get to pick the rest."

He perks up more, looking about diligently instead of with disinterest.

* * *

We spotted a couple police boats to the east of the island, and somehow—miraculously—got one of them to run. It was decided that we'd use it as the means of materials transportation.

We finally found some pre-built walls and floors at Murkwater Construction Site and hauled them back to the island along with some tools we'd found. After putting them on the west side of the island, we'd procured the help of the Atom Cats. Since we helped them when Gunners attacked a few days prior, they were more than willing to lend a hand in helping their new neighbours. And to really top it off, when we boarded the Prydwen again, and brought up the house situation, Danse had offered his help as well. We were astounded, to say the least.

Due to the luck of finding materials quickly and having help with the building process itself, the house went from a simple concept to an actual standing structure—with furniture even—within three weeks.

* * *

"Thanks for the help," Robert tells Danse as a Vertibird lands to pick him up and take him back to the zeppelin.

"It's no problem at all, MacCready."

"You're welcome at any time, Danse," I tell him. "If you feel like you need a break, you know where to find us." He smiles and nods, climbing onto the Vertibird and takes off, leaving Robert and I alone.

After the Vertibird is far in sight, Robert turns to me, a wide smile on his face. "What?" I ask him, a grin on my own.

"You don't know?" He glances about. "Look around us. We not only have a house, but we're alone finally. And no more sleeping in the shed."

I laugh, thinking of how we'd been sleeping next to the chem station in the workshop on the north end of the island, waiting for the house to be complete. "Yeah, finally," I agree.

"But... _we're alone now_ ," he specifies, wiggling his eyebrows at me. "You should be scared, you know."

"Of you? Pfft. What exactly do you want me to be scared of?" He starts stalking toward me as I slowly back up in an equally measured step.

"Oh, I don't know. I could attack at any moment." I move faster as he quickens his advance. "See? You running already shows me you're scared—and you don't even know why you should be."

I swallow hard. "Who says I'm running?"

"Me." He lunges toward me, falling to the ground when he misses, as I turn around and dash into the house.

And me, being stupid, I run up the stairs, turn right into the hallway, and slide into what we made into our new room. Hiding under the bed, I hear his footsteps in the house. "I'm gonna find you, Beth." He jumps in the doorway to the living room on the right of the front door. "Oh." He sounds so disappointed at me not being there, I giggle. Even as quiet as I was, he hears me and bounds up the steps, running into our bedroom. He changes tactics, "You don't have to be scared. I just wanna tickle you."

I get brave, suddenly asking, "Why do you like tickling me so much?"

He ducks his head under the bed and replies, "Because I love to hear you laugh." He drags me out by the ankles, ignoring me nearly kicking him in the face in protest. Picking me up far too easily, he dumps me onto the bed and proceeds to tickle my ribcage until I'm out of breath.

"Stop, stop!" I yell. Thinking I got hurt, he stops, looking at me with a semi-concerned face. Taking advantage of his lapse, I try my best to retaliate and tickle him back, but he's too clever. Pinning my arms down he looks down at me, his eyes sparkling with victory and enjoyment. "You make it too easy, Beth." He lets my arms go and starts to stand from his kneeling position on the bed.

Feeling brave suddenly, I grab his hand, his face looking a little surprised. Pulling him down by his arm, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and kiss him with a fervent craving. It'd been a while since we'd been alone, and I've missed him like this—soft and loving, just for me.

Putting his hand on the mattress above my head, he leans in, making the kiss deeper and more passionate. As I break free for air, he moves down my neck, kissing me along my jawline and moving to the skin below my ear.

After a few seconds, I move him back to my mouth, and he continues his assault on my nerves. I feel him smile. "You're making it really hard for me," he admits, breaking the kiss himself.

"Is that a pun?" I ask, showing a snarky grin.

"Shh," he hushes, an inevitable grin on his own face. "I'm still waiting for your word."

Continuing down that road for a little while longer, we separate our faces finally, laying down in our bed—correctly, lengthwise and not across it—for the first time.

"This is nice," he comments.

"Yeah. We finally have a home _,_ " I say. "Not just the secondhand house that was mine in Diamond City. We can grow here _together_. I just know Duncan and Shaun are going to love their rooms." I think of the two rooms we'd built opposite the hallway from our own room.

"I'm sure they will," he says in a light tone. "Duncan's never had a room to himself. You're gonna spoil him—I can tell already." I smile as he pats my side with his hand resting there.

"Well, yeah." Making it sound obvious, I roll my eyes exaggeratedly. " _Su hijo, mijo_." He looks down at me, my ribcage practically intertwined with his. He looks confused. With a sigh, I translate, "'Your son, my son.'"

"You need to stop with the Spanish, Beth. You know I can't understand it."

I look away from him. "I know. That's what makes it fun, _cariño_."

"Stop it!" he insists. "You could have just called me the worst thing in the world, and I wouldn't know!"

"Ah, don't worry. If you knew, you'd like it." I look back up at his slightly disgruntled face. When he glances down at me, I smile, " _Guapo._ " Reaching up to his cheek, I caress it.

Completely forgetting his irritation, he cups his hand over my own, closing his eyes and grinning. "This is nice," he repeats. Opening his eyes, he looks at me. "So, what's Spanish for 'home?' Like, not 'house,' but an actual home. Like this."

I think for a second, thinking of the term I feel fits. After a bit, I respond, " _La morada_."

" _La morada_ it is, then."

A week later, we have a hand-painted sign hung above the front door. In red lettering, " _La morada"_ can be read.

* * *

 _A/N: I legitimately love Spectacle Island. It's far from everyone, and I imagine the security would be amazing due to its location and general inaccessibility. The home I'd built in-game_ — _I can't fully describe how much it_ actually _feels like home to me. Even in its virtual glory._

 _I spend too much time there, really. Need to get out more. Much like real life. *sighs, then immediately laughs about thick sarcasm afterward* I'm not budging._


	16. 15 A Wild and Dangerous Ride

_A/N: Ah, the introduction to everyone's favourite sneak (I love you, Ryan Alosio)._

* * *

15\. A Wild and Dangerous Ride

Beth POV

 _I've Got You Under My Skin_ by Landau Eugene Murphy Jr.

 _Don't Worry, We'll Be Watching You_ by Gotye

We had heard it mentioned briefly when we went to Goodneighbor the other day—the Freedom Trail. _It's been a long time since I've heard those words,_ I admitted to Robert. It was decided that we were walking that trail, no matter the warnings, no matter how hard. Feral ghouls, super mutants, and Gunners alike had put up their share of a fight along the way, but we were determined to see where the trail ended regardless—I couldn't remember for the life of me. We eventually came to the end of the red markings.

"A church?" he asks. "Why a church?"

"I don't know. Maybe because people didn't feel oppressed in churches?" I suggest.

After walking in, we run smack into a group of _more_ ghouls— _My favourite,_ I think _—_ and slay them all. After looking around the rather ransacked and dilapidated room, we find a door leading to the catacomb-like recesses below the church.

"Tunnel Snakes rule! Sorry… I heard that a long time ago." After I look at Robert with a confused face, he clarifies, "It's something Butch used to say all the time—well, according to Kate. Apparently he was the leader of a gang in 101 called that." We laugh. "He's something else."

"Sounds like it." As we move our way through the tombs, I look at all the dates. "Man, these people died a _long_ time ago. At least they didn't have to experience the end of the world." Cutting my thoughts short, I spot a piece of paper tucked behind one of the plaques. "What's this?" I pull the paper out and read it. "'Railroad.' What is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "No idea. Trains haven't been used in I don't know how long. Looks like that paper isn't that old. Someone trying to throw passersby off?"

"Ah, who knows." I put the paper in the side of my boot.

As we keep walking, we come to a giant plaque looking thing on the wall near a dead end. With an arrow pointed up, and a power cable connected to seemingly nothing, I gasp suddenly. "What if that word goes on here?!" I pull the paper out and try to remember how these things used to work when I was a little girl. "It's like a giant decoder ring!" I individually put each letter of the word 'railroad' at the tip of the arrow. When I press the middle down, a door to my left—which I couldn't even see before—slides open. "There we go."

With utter confusion on his face, Robert asks, "What just happened?"

"We'll find out in a second," I say as I walk into the darkness.

"Got a light on that fancy wristwatch?"

"Hush." I'm about to turn it on when we get blinded by a light ahead of us.

"Stop right there," a woman tells us. "Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?"

"I'm just a curious explorer." I decide taking the evasive route would be better. "And I found the code down there." I point to where we came from. As I say this, a man walks in from the door behind the woman. I can now see—since I'm not blinded anymore—that she is flanked by a young man in a blue jacket and a tough looking chick with a minigun.

When the woman in the middle—the one who was talking—notices his presence, "Deacon. Where have you been?"

"Heard a party out here. What gives with my invitation?"

"Our 'guest' here says she found the code to our door right outside in the tombs. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

The man—who is wearing sunglasses, despite our being indoors—hesitates only slightly before saying, "Nope. Not a thing, Dez."

She seems to not trust him all the way, but ultimately believes him. She turns back to me. "So, how did you find us?"

"We were in Goodneighbor the other day. Heard someone mention the Freedom Trail. It's been a long while since I've seen it, so here we are." I finally notice Robert—he's standing semi behind me, semi beside me, looking tense as ever. Seems like he's wanting to reach for his gun pretty badly, and could at any second.

"That simple?" the woman asks.

"That simple."

She for some reason now seems to believe me, as she indulges me in some details. "I'm Desdemona, and I'm the leader of the Railroad. Hear of our cause?"

"Like transportation?" I ask. "Or Harriet Tubman kind of stuff?"

"I suppose you could compare us to the original Underground Railroad. But, the kind of slaves we help are different. Familiar with synths?"

"Yes." I think of the nasty Gen 1s and 2s back at Fort Hagen.

"We help them. Some want to escape the Institute, even if it's the last thing they ever do. And we aid them in this. They are slaves to the people of the Institute, and when they no longer wish to be, we help them the best we can by giving them a new, better life."

"I see." I now notice how Robert has calmed down considerably, except for him watching the minigun chick diligently.

"Tell me," the woman—Desdemona—goes on. "What do you think of our synth brothers and sisters?"

"Like, the Skeletor ones or the mannequin and dummy looking ones?"

"We do not help Gen 1s and 2s. We help Gen 3s. What is your opinion on them?" I find it odd how she asks only me these questions—as if Robert isn't standing right here with me.

"I don't know too much about them," I admit. "If I've come across very many, I'm unaware." I think for a second. "They're okay, I guess."

"Good enough," the man—Deacon—says. Quietly, "Dez, we need help. Let her join."

"No," she responds. "We know nothing about this woman. She could be a liability to us."

"Um, I think you forget who you're talking to." He raises his voice higher for us all to hear. "I know that she's in the Brotherhood. Even at Initiate rank, you have to admit that that is impressive. Annnd… as if that wasn't enough: she and twiggers over there cleared out Spectacle Island by themselves." At her clear astonishment, he adds, "I know, right?" She looks to me.

"You've accomplished these tasks?" she asks and I nod sheepishly. "Okay. Well, this changes things. Talk to Deacon," she gives him a look and he nods at her. "I have some work I need to attend to, so if you'll excuse me."

As she, minigun chick, and the young man in blue leave, Deacon stands there, leaning against the wall. After they're gone, he walks down some steps and towards us. "Sorry. She can be such a hardass."

From what I've observed so far, I decide to speak up. "So, _you_ wrote that code." It's more of a statement than a question.

"I already said I didn't." I can't read his eyes through the sunglasses, but I don't really need to.

"No. You did. I know a liar when I see one."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken." He's diligent on keeping up his façade.

"Buddy," Robert chimes in. "She knows what she's talking about. _Trust_ me." He makes a face at him, as if I'd caught him many times in lies himself.

"Okay. Maybe I put… the… note… Okay, fine. Yes, I put it there." _Caught ya,_ I think.

"Why did you put it there, then?"

"For you guys."

I'm taken aback. "Wait… For _us_?" I point to Robert and myself.

"Yeah. I knew you were coming, and that frickin' letter ring is _hard_ to figure out if you're not in the know."

"…You… knew we were coming? How?" I am utterly flabbergasted.

"Well, let's just say I happened to be in Goodneighbor the other day… And that I may have purposefully brought up the Freedom Trail with a drifter…" I now recall seeing a man with the same kind of sunglasses on… I still don't even know how he knew about the BOS or Spectacle Island.

"You've been following us," I accuse.

"Despite what you think, Diamond City doesn't have the best dick in the Commonwealth."

This comment rubs Robert the wrong way. Stepping closer to him a little, "Hey, now. Watch it."

I look to him, "He didn't mean it like that…" This only makes Deacon chuckle.

"I like you guys. I've been hoping we'd get along." _Boy, he's not shy with the whole spy thing, is he?_ "Say. There's this thing we here at the Railroad need help with. You two are more than capable, with you clearing Mirelurk Island and all. If you help us out with this, Dez is bound to let you in our little fiesta." He looks straight at me. "We have cookies." I can't help but to laugh out loud.

"Hope you have a lot," I say. "It's been a while since I've had some and I could _totally_ down a whole box right now."

"No worries. We have a stockpile." He grins. "Anyway. Getting down to brass tacks: we need help getting a prototype from our old HQ. It got wiped out by those pesky knuckleheads a little while back." He scoffs. "It's gonna be one wild and dangerous ride, I can tell you that."

"Wild? Dangerous? I'm up for it. You in?" I ask Robert.

"You know I'm not _not_ going to be, so sure." Deacon looks confused, so he clarifies with a sigh, "Yes. We're in."

"Awesomesauce!" Deacon exclaims. "Let me know when you're ready to go. It's in Lexington, by the way."

"No biggie. I know the area. Let's go."

* * *

As we walked to Lexington, I noticed that Deacon was allowing us to lead the way as he hung behind. I thought to myself, _Well, if he knew that much, who's to say he didn't already know that I'm familiar with the geography around here._

He made a comment on my vaultsuit also. _So, you're from a vault?_ he asked. _As if you didn't already know,_ I retorted. I was surprised to see him shrug, as if he was admitting it.

We talked more when we were closer to Switchboard, as he'd called it. I found myself actually enjoying this odd man's company—Robert, on the other hand, not so much. I thought maybe—maybe—he was jealous. Although, I couldn't tell why. Deacon wasn't flirting or anything—just being friendly. I thought perhaps it was how I was reacting to him. Instead of being freaked out, I was just going along with it. Maybe it was just due to the proximity of another male. But I had the notion that Deacon was a straight-up kind of guy, so I just rolled with it, ignoring Robert for the main part.

It wasn't until we were almost there that Deacon actually _did_ start to freak me out a bit.

* * *

"How do you know that?"

"Know what? About your being Pre-War or about you leaving the vault in October?"

"Yeah," I say, "both of those."

"Well, when your job is intel, you kinda have to be good with knowing stuff." He pauses for a minute. "…I also might've possibly maybe most definitely actually seen you leave the vault."

If I had water in my mouth, I would have spit it out. "You what?!" I ask in shock.

"You what?!" Robert asks—with an edge of anger—after me, the slightest delay keeping it from being in sync.

We come to a complete stop, Deacon nearly running into me in the process. Whipping around, I try to ask him, _Why, how?_ Instead, I end up blubbering, no words coming out. He seems to know what I'm wanting to know.

"We keep tabs on the Institute's movement—what little we _can_ track. We saw when they took Shaun, and we saw when you were let out. It's not just me. The whole gang knows about you resurfacing."

"So, they _do_ have Shaun," I mutter. Realizing what he'd said, I finally articulate, "Wait. Shaun? How do you know my son's name? And _let_ out? What do you mean?"

"Like I said, we keep tabs and I need to be able to know stuff. Probably best we don't discuss the _how's._ And yes, let out. Did you seriously think the cryo pods just randomly malfunctioned and that _yours_ was the only working one left? It was a planned thing—I'm sure of it."

I'm baffled. "Planned? Who could have planned it?"

"Who have we been talking about this whole time?"

 _The Institute._ "Why wouldn't they just let me die? Was my life not already over at that point with what they did?"

"They might have needed a backup in case the baby went on strike or something."

I glare at him. "That's my son you're talking about. Not funny, Deacon."

"Sorry." He walks ahead and we come to a grate, indicating this is where we need to be. "Hey," he turns to me. "You don't have a reason to be scared of me. I know it seems crazy—me, suddenly here, and knowing so much about you already. But trust me. If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would have done it already? I mean, I _have_ known about you—followed you even, I'll admit—for a long time now. You just interest me. It's not everyday someone from before the War pops up into our chunk of crappy land." He points to Robert. "Plus—he wouldn't dare let me near you to even cut a single hair on your head."

"Damn straight," Robert agrees, his anger still slightly present.

Deacon smiles, a curve beneath his ever-present sunglasses. "Having someone like that on your side—it's invaluable. Don't give it up."

"I couldn't if I tried." I swear I see Robert grin beside me.

Deacon faces the grate we've come to. "Well, this is it. From here on in, there's going to be hostile synths all over the effin' place. Gen 1s, Gen 2s—you know the drill. Shoot 'em like there's no tomorrow, Bethany."

"Um… that's not my name."

"Oh, I know." He grins. "I just know you don't like your actual full name." He opens the grate and walks in.

"How on earth do you know _that_?!"

* * *

After clearing the entire underground facility, we came to a giant vault-type safe. Deacon grabbed the odd looking prototype and was about to leave and head back to Old North Church, but I insisted he come with us to Sanctuary and maybe even show us where he was camping when he saw me leave 111 nearly five months ago. I could tell Robert wasn't too enthused about it, but he kept quiet, allowing this strange new man to travel with us to my old hometown.

On the way to Sanctuary Hills, Deacon and I swapped some old stories—he shared some from his caravan guarding past, and I shared a couple about Pre-War Boston and how owning a law firm was. Robert mainly stayed quiet, refusing to tell us about living in Little Lamplight when I prompted him. I found it funny how it looked like he was pouting for most of the trip.

* * *

When we're getting close to Concord, Deacon somehow manages to resemble a dog when he perks up at something I can't hear. After a second, he says, "Get down."

"What's up?" Robert asks.

"Listen," Deacon points ahead of us, to which Robert nods, as if he knows what he's talking about.

"Um. Someone want to enlighten me here?" I cut in.

"Some kind of scuffle in town," Robert clarifies. After a second, "Gunfire."

"I can't hear it," I say.

"You haven't had twenty-plus years out here," Deacon responds. "We have."

"True."

We continue toward the din carefully, not knowing what to really expect. As we walk around a house, we finally see what all the commotion is: Raiders attacking someone on the balcony of the Museum of Freedom. The man sees us and yells, "I've got a group of settlers inside! The Raiders are almost through the door! Help us! Please!" He goes back inside as we gun down the Raiders that had also spotted us.

The three of us go through the museum, clearing each level as we go. Finally, we make it to the man—a black man somewhere in his twenties—that had called for our help outside.

"Man, I don't know who you guys are, but I can't argue with your impeccable timing. I'm Preston Garvey of the Commonwealth Minutemen."

"Minutemen? I didn't think they'd still be together, all these years later," I comment.

"Sure, things got bad for a while—and I admit that we're still struggling—but there's still a few of us."

"The original group of Minutemen actually survived throughout all these centuries?" I can't believe what I'm hearing.

Deacon steps in. "I think my friend here is just really impressed that the name has stuck all this time. I agree: why not chose another name, instead of following after our forefathers?" He gives me this look, as if he's shielding me from telling the truth.

"It seemed fitting: protecting the people at a minute's notice. So, they chose this name." He looks at all three of us as if for the first time. "Boy… what a strange group. I'm gonna guess here. Merc?" He points to Robert. "Vault dweller?" He points to me. "And… I don't even know." He gestures to Deacon. "Who are you guys?"

Before either of us can open our mouths, Deacon again speaks. "We're just a group of friends. I'm a caravan guard, taking some time off while my boss gets a new brahmin. The old one got attacked the other night by some radscorpions. Wasn't fun, that's for sure." And as if he forgot our presence, he turns to us. "These are some friends of mine. We got to know each other through trading deals, and now they're like family." He moves closer to Preston. "By the way, they're like, together. So, she's taken. I saw that look in your eyes, freedom-fighter." He looks back to me, and I presume he winks, saying, "I got your back, girl." Both Preston and Robert chuckle a little bit at him. And I have to admit—I'm shocked to hear Robert actually laughing at him, rather than just glaring at him with jealously, as I've gotten used to since meeting Deacon. He continues, "She _was_ a vault dweller and he _was_ a merc. They're both retired from their respective positions, though." Preston gets a face as if he's wondering, _How does one retire from being a vault dweller?_ But he doesn't ask. Instead, he changes the subject.

"So, we're on our way to Sanctuary Hills. Heard about it a while back and thought it'd be a good place to settle down. Would you mind joining us as we walk there?"

I laugh. "Yeah, it is a nice place to settle, I guess you could say. And yeah, sure. We were actually headed there ourselves. I used to live there back before the War—"

"—Between her family," Deacon cuts me off. "There was a pretty serious skirmish and she hasn't been back yet." _Why does he not want me to talk about my past? Or any of us really?_

"Oh, that's a shame. At least we have an 'insider.'" Preston chuckles.

"You sure do," Deacon replies with a chuckle of his own.

* * *

When we actually arrived in Sanctuary—Preston and company in tow, and having had made sure they were settled into one of the houses—I finally saw my own house. I didn't know I'd react to it the way I did. I didn't want to even look at it. I hadn't been back there for over two centuries—I didn't even wander by it when I left the vault. If Codsworth hadn't been by the small footbridge, I wouldn't even have known he was still around. He told me he'd stay behind and tidy up the house to the best of his ability while I went out in search of the "young master." He was absolutely delighted to see me again as we came in—and even more excited that I'd brought "houseguests!"

We ended up staying in the Rosa's house across the street. It was close enough to be comforting, but far enough to not make me anxious. Deacon seemed right at home, as if he spent more time in the area than he was willing to admit.

On the second night of our stay, he let me know he was heading back to HQ in the morning, so to not be alarmed when he wasn't around. I thanked him for all the lovely banter and interesting company. He shrugged it off as part of his job, but I'm positive I saw the slightest hint of red to his face below his shades.

* * *

I wake with a start—jolting nearly upright within seconds of consciousness. This wakes Robert, who is instantly worried. "What's wrong?"

"Just a dream," I both answer him and tell myself in my best attempt to calm myself down. "Just a dream."

He rubs small circles on my back comfortingly. "It gets better," he soothes. He must know what it was about—coming back "home" brought out some wretched memories in my sleeping state.

"Yeah… I know." I try my best to grin at him, but it ends up feeling more like a lopsided scowl. Shaking my head free from the dream, I go to stand.

"Where you headed?" he asks.

"I need to see something." I leave the room, leave his confused face behind.

Despite it practically being the middle of the night, I walk across the street. I can't help but to stop on the sidewalk in front of my house. _Is this a mistake?_ I feel an arm wrap around my lower back. "I'm with you," he says. Taking a deep breath, I walk into the very structure of my old life.


	17. 16 Two Meets One

_A/N: The song for this chapter, I know, is already from the game soundtrack. But listen to it again. Not with the movie from the beginning of the game, but as a whole. Notice the tones, the mood._

 _This song actually helped_ — _inspired_ — _far more than just this chapter. Its somber sounds are a wonder for writing a more serious chapter. I had it on a loop for about two hours one night as I was writing. So, yeah. Good stuff._

* * *

16\. Two Meets One

MacCready POV

 _Fallout 4 Intro Cinematic Music (Extended)_ by Sam Yung

She walks through the front door of her old house, and as soon as her feet pass the threshold, she stops. I slip my way past her, standing to her side. Looking her in the face as her eyes roam the room, I quietly say, "We can come back later if you're not ready right now."

She continues looking around, acting like she didn't even hear me. After a couple minutes of her speechless state, she whispers, "It's so different…" Finally making a move, she walks to the kitchen, and pulls a piece of paper from the fridge. With her back to me, she's unreadable. But as she turns—the note still in her hand—I see her eyes are glistening ever so slightly. "The grocery list is still here." Looking down at it, "Well, we don't need Nuka-Cola anymore. Guess I can cross that off." She puts the list back under the magnet and glances around, her eyes glazed over.

Walking up to her, I say, "You know, talking through your feelings has always helped you. Maybe it'll help now, too." Again, I'm not sure if she heard me. But after walking to some shelves by the door, she speaks.

"I used to have my degree here. It proved I could practice law. As soon as I got it, I went right to the store and got a frame for it. I was so proud. And right next to it, Nate kept a trifold flag. He got to keep it when his best friend fell at Anchorage—the rest of his family either didn't want it, or was passed already. He was glad he was able to have it." She does a one eighty, walking toward the red couch and puts her hand on the back of it.

"We watched television, listened to the radio, and sometimes ate dinner here. It was a brand new couch—delivered from the furniture store maybe a week before the bombs. Shame." Moving to the kitchen again, she continues.

"Nate and I usually made our own breakfast—a bowl of Sugar Bombs, an omelet—whatever we felt like that morning. But we did take turns making dinner. It was rough, with our schedules, but we managed. It was so much easier when we got Codsworth. He made all our meals. Plus, he helped take care of Shaun—that _really_ helped me catch up on sleep." Pointing at the table and chairs, "And we ate there. Every morning. Most nights. I had to hold Shaun when we all ate—he was still too young for a high chair."

I follow her silently as she moves down the hallway. Stopping at a small closet, she chuckles lightly. Picking up five books, she says, "We didn't know what to do with this, it was so small. So, I made it into my personal library of sorts. I built six shelves, installed them, and put my collection of books here. Glad to see these many survived at least." She sets them down for the time being and looks to what seems to have been the laundry room, saying, "I really miss washers and dryers," and moves to the next room.

"This was our room." Glancing at the broken down bed, she mumbles, "Well, crap. Someone took it." Noticing my confused face, she clarifies, "The comforter. It was a horrid yellow, but it was _so_ warm. Nate's parents got it for us on our first year anniversary." Looking about, she sighs and turns around, heading to the room across the way.

"And this was Sha—" She stops abruptly—verbally and physically. Thinking there's something dangerous in there, I gaze over her shoulder. Seeing it's empty, I remember she hasn't been back here since the world ended, and it must have hit her hard to see it again. As she walks in slowly, she remains silent. After a few seconds, she bends down and picks something up from under the dresser. It's a children's book.

"I can't believe this made it," she says with utter disbelief. After she looks it over, she hands it to me. "Nate got that for Shaun while I was still pregnant with him. We couldn't wait to read with him." I notice the cover reads "You're S.P.E.C.I.A.L!" She continues, "He said he was going out to take care of some errands—but he came home with this instead. I was so happy, I cried—and that was rare back then, so you know it _had_ to be the baby hormones." We chuckle. "I guess he's a little old to be read to now, huh?"

"I'm sure he'll love to hear his mother read to him," I reassure. "Last I heard, Kate still reads to Ellis and Duncan every night, and they just eat it up." She grins.

Suddenly, she gets this strange look on her face and dashes back into her old bedroom. Practically ripping the drawer out of the dresser, she sighs. "They're still here." She produces a pair of dog tags and clutches them to herself. "One was Nate's, back when he served in the military, and the other belonged to my cousin. He died the very first day of duty—stepped on a landmine. He was only eighteen.

"We used to play together when we were kids—used to be like brother and sister, actually. His dad worked with mine, so they traveled together a lot. Which meant he and his mom—my Aunt June—used to come over all the time. Those were the days." She looks at them again before tucking them into a pocket on her leather armour. Once they're in place, she looks up at me all of a sudden. "Can we go see him?"

"Your… cousin?"

"No. Nate," she explains. "Would that be okay with you?" She looks a little bit worried that I would object.

"Of course I'm okay with it. But, are you sure you want to?"

"Yeah… I haven't been back yet, and I feel kinda bad for it."

"Whenever you're ready." _If she wants to see her husband, who am I to stop her?_

* * *

We left within a few minutes of discussing it. The walk to the vault was shorter than I was expecting. And even less expected, was the entrance into the vault itself. I'd never before seen a lift-style door to the underground bunkers.

After walking through the Overseer's office, kitchen/diner, and staff quarters, we were faced with entering the room with the cryogenic pods. Passing dead body after dead body made me feel uncomfortable—I couldn't imagine waking up to this after an already tragic series of events.

She walks up to the only open pod, sighs, and does an about-face.

* * *

She stands before a single pod and opens it by pulling a lever. When it opens, she takes a deep breath.

She doesn't talk for a few minutes, but when she does, she says what I was least expecting: introducing _me_ to him. "Hi, Nate. This is Robert." She pulls me next to her and puts her arm around me. "I really think you'd like him. He's made this so much easier—dealing with how much the world's changed and being alone. He's helped me more than I can say." She looks at me with a small smile. "He's amazing." She stretches up on her toes and kisses me on the cheek and lets me go. She looks back to his pod, seeming to not know what else to say. _She needs closure. I know if it were me, I'd need to be alone._

"I, uh… I'll leave you alone." For once, she doesn't argue or try to stop me as I start to walk out of the room.

Sitting out of sight on the other side of the doorframe, I hear her sit on the floor as well. After a minute of silence, she finally begins to speak.

"Nate… I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop Kellogg—from killing you _or_ taking Shaun. I have to face it everyday, knowing that I was useless. But, I did find Kellogg. He's dead now, so that should make you feel better. It seemed like he was sorry, but…" She sighs. "I don't know. Doesn't matter now. Nothing can change." She falls silent for a few seconds.

"So apparently, ten years have passed since that day our baby was taken. He's ten years old now, and I'm not even sure how I feel about it. But then again, I'm not even sure what to think of _everything_ else. You'd be doing so much better out here than I am. I mean, before stepping into this wasteland, I hadn't even held a knife in self-defense. With your being in the military, this would probably be a second nature to you… But… I _think_ I'm doing okay out here. Like I said a minute ago, with Robert, everything's a lot easier.

"I'm really glad I found him. Took a bit to get used to him, but now… I don't know how to be _without_ him. He really is a great guy, Nate. You told me if you'd died in Anchorage, you'd want me to move on—find a nice man to settle down with, help me raise Shaun. I don't think it'd be any different now, so I'm going to assume it's okay with you." Another pause. "I really love him, Nate. I never knew I could love someone else, this much and this soon. It's like magic—and it's weird, but I'm not complaining _at all_.

"I promised I'd find Shaun. And I'm working on it. Robert's helping me—even some of the people in an organization called the Brotherhood are. It's crazy." I hear her sniffle.

Through some tears, "I guess I need to go work on that some more. I've been wanting to give them a way to find him, but I just haven't yet. I guess I'm scared of what I'll find. Shaun—ten years old? I don't know how I can handle that.

"I really wished it was you here instead of me sometimes. But I'm managing." She stands, so I do the same. "Well, I'll see you later." She walks toward the door without a backward glance. Seeing me right here, she asks, "Ready?" She tries to wipe a few stray tears away inconspicuously.

"Uh… no." I look toward the room she came from. "Give me a few minutes?" She looks confused, but nods and continues walking to the exit, dabbing at her eyes with her vaultsuit sleeve. I stand in front of Nate as I hear the hydraulic whoosh of the door, signaling her departure.

"Hey," I greet him awkwardly. Wringing the back of my neck, "I'm sorry about…" I gesture to his frozen form. "…Well." Not sure how to proceed, I just start rambling.

"She's awesome, you know? Well, yeah. Actually you do. Um, sorry. But, yeah. She's great. Like out of this world—quite literally for me. Never in a million years thought I'd meet someone from before. I guess I can kinda say I've meet two now, huh?" Hearing how stupid I sound, I cut myself short and sigh.

Moving to an actual topic, I say, "Hey. I really do think your wife's great. And I heard her. Look, she's not the only one. I really love her, too. And I'd kinda feel weird if I didn't say anything. I mean, it's not like I'm asking permission, cause one: you can't answer, and two: I'm going to probably anyway, so it'd be kinda pointless. But…" I stop and take a deep breath, listening for any possible movement from her. With the reassurance of silence, I continue.

"I want to marry her, Nate. I _know_ I can't live without her, and she means the _world_ to me. I promise I'm doing everything I can to protect her, to provide for her. But if anyone knows, it'd be you: she's stubborn and sometimes won't let me. That's on her, right? I'm sure you've had to throw your arms in the air and just let her have her way sometimes." _Annnd I'm rambling again._ "Anyway…" I pull the lever to close the pod once again. "See you later," I repeat Beth's words.

As I get to the front room, I see Beth sitting on a foldup chair, opening and reclosing the holotape door on her Pip-Boy. Going up to her, I put my hand on it, stopping her. "You'll break it…" She looks up at me, her eyes wet and red. She stands and hugs me. Patting her hair down, I ask her, "You ready to go?"

She must feel better already as she nods, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

We leave the vault, Nate, and the memories behind, sitting on ready to be sorted out some other day.

* * *

 _Somewhere in the universe, two souls exchange conversation._

 _"He seems nice."_

 _"He's the best. She couldn't have a better husband. Trust me."_


	18. 17 Drunk Stories

_A/N: Time to get drunk again? I think so._

 _Being drunk: check. Stories about the past: check._

 _Alright, we're good to go._

* * *

17\. Drunk Stories

MacCready POV

 _House of the Rising Sun_ by The Animals

We ended up spending a couple more nights in Sanctuary as Beth sorta "recuperated" from her visit to 111. In this time, we also managed to take Nate's body to the surface and give him a proper burial. She told herself she wouldn't cry—and I was actually surprised she didn't. I was proud of her.

Once we got him settled, and made sure Gravy Boat and Company was established as well, we took off to head home. As we now sit in College Square Station, I find myself at the end of possibly the worst whiskey I've ever had.

"You sure you feel okay?" Beth asks me. "If it wasn't good, you shouldn't have drank it. I could've gotten you a better bottle at Diamond City."

"It wasn't so much for the taste as it was for the semi-quick means of getting drunk." My words slur quite a bit as I speak—more than I would have imagined, since I feel relatively sober. I gesture around us. "The metro, the ghouls—brought back some not-so-great memories."

I see realization hit her face. "Ah, I see…" She looks away. "You should've said something before."

"Like I knew," I snap before apologizing immediately. "Sorry," I say with a sigh. She grins sympathetically.

"C'mere." I scoot my way over to her on the floor, then she pats her lap. Looking at her with confusion, she clarifies, "Put your head there." I silently obey despite my curiosity. She takes my hat and sets it to the side, as she runs her fingers through my hair in a loving way. "It's getting pretty late. Maybe you should get some sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah," I say with a yawn. _Didn't even feel tired a minute ago…_

As I continue to lay here—Beth still soothing the tension from my scalp—I can't help my mind from running away from me:

 _Why is it so comforting to have someone playing with your hair? Like, is it a natural thing, or a learned thing?_

 _I know I've always loved it—it's always been relaxing for me. Like when Lucy used to do it._

 _So, does that mean it's normal for girls to do this? Why is it so alluring to play with a guy's hair?_

 _Jeez, Lucy used to do this even when we were kids. Well, pretty much kids. Thirteen and fourteen are kid ages, right?_

 _Man, that was a long time ago. Seems like yesterday at the same time. Strange how time is like that._

 _Has it really been that long? Wasn't even a couple years after that Duncan was born. Never would have thought that'd happen._

 _Shi—shoot, never would have thought we'd end up married. What were the chances of that, huh? A snob mayor like me, with a smart doctor like her? No way in hell._

 _And what even made her leave Lamplight with me? She still had a while, but she went with me to Big Town anyway._

 _What drove us out again? Oh, yeah. The fact that that annoying cun—I mean, meathead, Sticky, wouldn't leave us alone for the better part of the first week there. Gah, he was so annoying. Why was he not that annoying in Lamplight? He just had to wait, didn't he, until we were in Big Town._

I suddenly think of the scar on the right side of my ribcage. _He wouldn't leave it alone after he saw it on accident that one morning. Man, he was the worst._

I begin to think of that scar in more detail, how I received it. "Man, I was lucky."

"Oh, jeez! Scare me, why don't you!" Beth exclaims. "I thought you were asleep."

I laugh lightly. "Nah, just thinking. That feels really good, by the way," I comment on her petting my head still.

"Okay," she laughs and continues doing it. "So, what were you thinking about to scare me so much?"

"Just my scar."

"You have a scar?" she asks.

"Of course," I respond. "Practically everybody out here has _at least_ one. Some more than others, but usually, they're for different reasons."

She thinks for a second. "So, how'd you get yours?"

Keeping my head in place, I go to unbutton my duster and shirt. Once my torso is exposed, I point solely from memory to where it is. "Cave-in." She inspects it closer, stopping her hair-playing for a minute. When she leans back and resumes, I button my shirt up and explain.

"I would say I was about… thirteen, almost fourteen when we were near Murder Pass and we heard a rumbling within the rocks. It was pretty normal for the cave to be making noises, so nobody was alarmed—at first. Then, rocks started to fall from the ceiling. Small ones, but still. Turns out, a Vertibird crashed on the surface and knocked some of the ground loose. So, yes. That's why I don't like Vertibirds…" _I just know that's what she's thinking._

"Anyway… the rocks that were falling started to get a little bigger. Then, _boom!_ A whole bunch of the ceiling falls. I managed to knock some of the kids out of the way, including Lucy." Beth's face shifts as she wasn't expecting Lucy to be mentioned. "Somehow, I managed to get covered in the rubble. Like, _covered._ One particularly large rock fell straight onto my ribs—broke, I think she said seven? Anyway, one ended up puncturing my lung. A couple kids—Knick Knack and Eclair—carried me back to Lucy's office where she treated me. She had to cut me open a bit—leaving this scar—in order to get the broken rib out of my lung. Nothing a couple Stimpaks couldn't help, obviously. But if no one else was there, I would've died. She and I got a lot closer after that happened."

"Well, that's believable. I mean, she saved your life." She seems eager to hear more, but doesn't push it. _She deserves to know. She's told me about Nate, and… I think I'm actually ready to talk about her._

"I wish you could meet her," I say, surprising Beth. "You two would have gotten along really well.

"She had this personality that people were just drawn to. Nice, but able to defend her loved ones—fierce, yet the most delicate flower somehow at the same time. She was the best mother. Neither of us was really expecting that—but now, looking back, we should have. She was practically the mother of Little Lamplight. But, you know, kids in general and _your_ kids are two very different things. And since Duncan was a surprise, we didn't know what to expect. I sure as hell didn't expect to love him as much as I do. Kids, especially babies, always drove me nuts. So, here we were thinking the worst—that we'd both be horrible at the whole raising a kid thing. That's not exactly the most encouraging train of thought for parents-to-be, especially since I was only sixteen, and she fifteen.

"But when he came, we both fell so hard for him. It was _really_ a shocker that I did, though. I'd heard that your opinion on kids change once you have your own, but I never believed it until then. He was like this small, little miracle—an actual human being I helped create with the person I loved. It was the best feeling in the world. To hold him in my arms that first time… There are no words for it."

"I understand," Beth chimes in. "There is nothing better than the feeling of knowing you're a parent."

"Nothing," I agree. "But, yeah. You'd love her."

She seems to sense my willingness to talk about her, so she prompts, "What did she look like?"

I think for a second with my eyes closed, trying to remember exactly, and being bothered by the fact that it takes so long. "Um, she had brown hair and hazel eyes. Skin maybe just a smidge darker than mine. Her actual name was Lucia, but she went by Lucy—I guess she came from a Latin heritage or something.

"She was under Red's guidance before she left for Big Town, so she learned all her medical stuff from her. She made some kind of Buffout extract that was this miracle drug for us. Of course, Kate supplied all the Buffout in trade for some cave fungus—it had anti-radiation qualities to it, so it came in handy for her."

"How did you two get together?" she asks. "I mean, you clearly knew each other from a young age. Just, what happened to make _it_ happen?"

"I think it started when the cave-in happened, at least for me. She told me she liked me before then, but I'm not sure—she was pretty distant for the longest time. It wasn't until then that she actually started talking to me on a regular basis.

"Due to the puncture, it was hard for me to walk for a day or two, so I just stayed in her office, healing. Even Stimpaks were slow to completely seal it. She didn't have any other duties, so she stayed in her office with me—catching up on a bit of paperwork, or just tidying her files. This was when we started to really talk.

"We were both just really bored. We talked about nothing in particular really, just small talk. Somehow, we ended up together by the end of the week. Since I hadn't been mayor for a good year at this point, I had a lot of spare time. Biwwy took care of the kids since becoming mayor, but I helped occasionally with the front gate's security. When I wasn't doing that, and Lucy was able to leave the doctor's office, we'd run away to a remote corner of the caverns.

"We'd just sit around, getting drunk on Knick Knack's booze, or we'd just take the longest nap together… And maybe some non-nap stuff…" Beth giggles.

I continue, "When I was fifteen, I decided to leave Lamplight, and she went with me. I never could understand why, though—the others needed her, she was the only doctor, and she still had almost another two years down there. But she went with me to Big Town anyway. Wasn't even a month later and we left there, too. It wasn't exactly what we were expecting and we wanted to see what else the world had to offer—so away we went.

"Several months later, we figured out she was pregnant. We didn't know what to do. We had ended up settling not too far from Arefu, so at least there were other people near us. But still.

"Fast forward a few years after Duncan was born, we still had that house, but we'd heard about a place called Girdershade. We heard there were a couple people living there, and that it was an okay place to live. We never actually found it, but instead found Warrington Station. That was the mistake—there were tons of ferals in there…

"We were just looking around the metro—it was completely silent. Then I heard them…" Beth pats my chest encouragingly. At this point, I'd completely forgotten I'm still laying on her lap. I take a deep breath and continue.

"She was holding Duncan on her hip and I was on her left, sandwiching him between us. Not one, but _five_ ferals come charging from our blind spot on her right. One tackles her, knocking not only her, but me and Duncan to the ground, like dominoes. I'm never going to be able to lose the memory of her as it—" I stop myself, closing my eyes. _She gets the point._ "Well, anyway… She dropped Duncan." I clear my throat. "I'm shocked I had the instinct to grab him and get up and start running. I wished there was something I could have done—there has been _so_ many nights that I regret that instinct—but I know now that it was already too late, and I'm glad I grabbed him and ran. We'd be dead too right now otherwise." I feel that was an abrupt stop to the retelling, but I don't know how else to continue.

She sighs. "I can't even imagine it."

"Well, you kinda can," I argue.

"Yes… but no, not really. He was there one second, gone the next. With her, it wasn't… quick… I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be. It's been four years. What's done is done. You weren't even out yet."

"I know, but… still." We're both silent for a few minutes and I can't help but to wonder what she's thinking. I find out when she speaks, changing the subject. "Well, we're about halfway home. What're we gonna do when we get there?"

"Whatever you want." I notice my slurring has decreased drastically from the beginning of my stories to now.

"I can't think of anything. I guess it'll be a surprise, huh?"

And how right she was.

* * *

After walking through the front door of our house, I hear, "What took you two so long?"

I put myself between Beth and the mysterious voice coming from the living room. Moving quickly but quietly, I peek around the corner and groan. "What are you doing here, Deacon?"

"Deacon?" Beth questions and moves around me to gaze upon our home invader. "What are you doing here?"

"You guys literally just asked the exact same question. Can't be more original?" He stands up from one of the armchairs and strolls toward us. Glancing around, he says, "You have a nice house here. The Atom Cats did a good job." He looks at Beth. "Nice arrangement with the furniture." He looks to me. "Nice location. The west side of the island—can't argue with that view." _How does he know all this?!_

"I don't even wanna know how you know what you do. But I am curious," I motion to the door. "How'd you get in at least?"

"Bobby pins are handy—even for the bald, my friend." He takes off what has been a wig this entire time and throws it into the chair he was sitting in. "Most people won't even come out here, and for the few that would," he jams a thumb to his chest, "locks aren't very efficient. Might as well keep it unlocked, amigo."

"So, you haven't answered our unoriginal question," Beth points out. "Why are you here? I thought you were headed back to HQ."

"Uh, I did go to HQ. Like, two days ago. Dropped off the prototype—by the way, Dez thought it was cool of you to help—and came here. I figured you guys'd be home. But _nooo_. Gotta leave ole Deacs by himself for a whole day in an unfamiliar place. How rude." As I'm about to protest, he raises his hands. "Just kidding, twiggers. Calm down… Oh, yeah." He moves to the kitchen, leaving our confused expressions behind. "Tom wanted me to give you guys this for the help." He comes back with a suspicious looking dish in his hands. "He calls it 'meat pie.' I don't even know what's in it," he admits. "But it's good. He makes it all the time, so we had leftovers for days—weeks even."

Beth steps forward and looks at the 'pie' closer. "So, we risk our lives to help, and he gives us leftovers? Not even nice enough to bake a fresh one? Now _that's_ rude." She takes it from him and smells it. "Smells alright. And just in time: I'm hungry."

"You're seriously gonna eat that?" I ask her.

"Well, yeah." She puts it down on the counter and grabs a knife. "If you don't want any, more for me." She looks back with a devilish grin.

"Ugh. Fine." I walk into the kitchen from the living room and stand by her as she cuts and serves me a small bowl of the funky food. As she grabs her own bowl, we walk back into the living room and sit on the couch.

"Hey, Deacon. There's drinks in this cabinet, if you want any." He hops right to her suggestion, mouthing, _Thanks_. Grabbing a chair from the dining table, he drags it into the living room, and sits opposite us next to the cabinet. "Out of all the chairs in this room…" Beth mutters with a mouthful of pie.

"Well, yeah. You guys just _had_ to sit with your faces against the wall." He takes a drink from his glass of vodka.

"Well excuse us for being used to eating together," I spit at him. Beth nudges me.

"Play nice, boys." Even though she is talking to both of us, she's only looking at me. To further ensure I act my age and not my shoe size, she shoves a spoon of pie in my face, then we all sit in silence as we nurse our consumables.

After Deacon's sixth shot of vodka, he comments, "You two have nice chemistry. Lucky bastards."

"I'm sure you'll find someone, Deacon," Beth encourages.

"I already did." He sets the bottle down after preparing a seventh shot. Taking it, he continues, "So, I'm done with that whole thing."

"I didn't know you had a partner," I say.

"Most people don't. I like to keep it that way—nice and distant. Why bring it up, right?"

"But, you just did," Beth states.

"Oops." He sets his glass down on the cabinet next to him.

"You shouldn't be ashamed to talk about them," I chime in.

"I'm not ashamed to talk about her. I just prefer not to." He points at me. "You should know what I'm talking about." _He can't mean…_ "Makes me miss her. So, there wasn't no point in bringing up my dead wife, okay?" A second later, "Maybe we should start a loss-of-spouse counselling group, since we've all gone through it."

Beth and I are speechless as he continues. "I lie about everything—sometimes, even I believe my own lies and it scares me. But I guess that's why I'm a fraud—so nobody I care about will get hurt. It's hard to find out who to kill when you don't even know who you're hurting."

I can't help but to feel bad for him. _Have I been too harsh on him? He didn't deserve it, did he? Maybe he's so cautious and learns things about people as a way to protect himself._ Even though it seemed like he didn't want to continue, the alcohol in his system forces him to jump into the rabbit hole.

"I used to run with a gang. We called ourselves the University Point Deathclaws. We'd go around and accuse people of being synths, and kill any ones we thought were. It was just something to do." He notices Beth's face. "Yeah, I know. Crazy to be on both ends of the spectrum, right? But it makes sense in a little bit.

"So, we found somebody one day we thought was a synth and killed them. Turns out, they weren't and we'd just committed murder. I didn't like that, so I left. Fast forward a year, and I met Barbara. We lived on a farm, and was planning on starting a family. But here come the 'Claws. They had found out something both Barb and I didn't know—she was a Gen 3 synth.

"So, they killed her. Right then and there—right in front of me. I had to kill _them,_ of course. So, in my enraged anger, I slaughtered them like the animals there were. A few months later, the Railroad found me. They somehow knew about what happened. Ever since then, I swore I'd stay true to their cause of helping free synths. For my conscience, for _Barbara_. Every synth deserves a chance to experience more than just pain and trauma and fear. If anything, she taught me that.

"Crazy, but it was a synth that showed me what being human was like. A _synth_. I've been trying to find my human side again ever since that day. Maybe you two can help me, maybe that's why I came here." He scrunches his brows over his sunglasses. "I guess that's why I'm here, why I like to follow you." He shrugs. "I don't know anymore—I'm tired."

Beth pulls on my arm to stand. "Here," she says. "You can sleep here tonight, and head out in the morning if you want." She gives me her now empty bowl and points to the kitchen as she unfolds the blanket from the back of the couch. As I come back from placing the bowls in the sink, I see Deacon laying on the couch with the blanket on him.

"Thank you, guys." He looks at me. "I can tell you don't like me, Robert. And that's fine, I understand. But you're a great guy. I just want you to know that." For the very first time since meeting him, he takes off his sunglasses and lays them on the side table. Beth looks at me with eyes bigger than mutfruits and her jaw extremely slack. _I didn't expect that,_ her face says.

As dumbfounded as I am from our unintended houseguest, I tug on Beth's arm until she follows me upstairs to get ready for bed, as it had become night rather quickly. Once we're sitting on the edge of the bed, taking our boots off, she whispers, "What just happened?"

"I don't even know," I whisper back, trying to wrap my head around today's events. A minute later, while we're laying face-to-face, I sheepishly admit, "You know… he's not _too_ bad." She laughs quietly.

"I know," she retorts. "Never thought he was. You've just been jealous."

"Jealous!" I say a bit too loudly. Quieting down, I repeat, "Jealous?"

"Yeah," she giggles again. "I could see it from the moment we met him."

"You're making that up," I try to deflect.

"Nah," she shakes her head. "You have nothing to worry about. You know you're my favourite. So, there's no competition for you to be worrying about, babe." My eyebrows shoot up. _Babe?_ I wonder.

* * *

When we wake in the morning, we find a note—in very clear handwriting:

 _Thanks for your hospitality, guys._

 _Sorry about the onslaught of gloom last night. I don't know what hit me. Interesting vodka you have there—is it tainted? lol jk_

 _Anyway… I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. Stay safe until then. I swear, if I have to jump in and save you two from a mole rat brood next week, there will be hell to pay. (Or caps. I take caps as payment, too. I like caps.)_

 _-D_


	19. 18 About Time

18\. About Time

MacCready POV

When I wake, I swear I smell food. Opening my eyes, I see that Beth isn't in bed— _She must be cooking_. Dragging myself out from underneath our tattered blanket, I nearly fall down the stairs on my way to the kitchen. _Why so early? Sun isn't even up yet._

When I walk in, she's at the kitchen island cutting some kind of meat. "Oh, hey," she greets. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I could—" I clear my throat. "I could ask you the same."

"Couldn't sleep. So, might as well make good use of my time." She continues her chopping and puts the meat in a pot next to the cutting board, taking it to the stove. I walk over, sitting on one of the two bar stools and yawn rather loudly, gaining her attention. "You're tired. Go back to bed," she tells me. "Just because I'm up, doesn't mean you have to be."

"I know," I manage to say through the second wave of yawns. "How come you couldn't sleep?"

"Been thinking." She puts some water in the pot with the meat and covers it with a lid. Turning to me, she leans against the counter. "I'm thinking I need to go talk to Proctor Ingram today." After a second, "What do you think?"

I know she's talking about finding Shaun. "Is he someone that could help us?"

" _She_ is."

"He, she. I don't know."

"But, yeah. She can, I think. She's the most mechanically inclined person on ship. That's why I need to talk to her. If she _can't_ help, I need to find someone that can… And soon."

"Yeah." Another yawn. "When are we going?"

"'We?'"

"Well, yeah. I'm not staying here. I'm part of this, too. I want answers as much as you." _How insulting. Did she not think I'd be there with her?_

"I thought you'd want to sleep in. You tossed and turned all night, so I figured you were restless." _Yeah, dreams can do that._ I had a dream about Deacon's visit last night and the story of losing his wife. It's rough stuff, that.

As she puts some cut up tatos into a sauce pan, she says, "I don't even know if she can help. Figured I'd go find out while you slept. I'm so sure the staff on the Prydwen wake up before the chickens—if they're anything like Pre-War military."

"Well, when are you planning on leaving?" Yet another yawn. _This isn't helping my case right now,_ I think as she raises her brow at me.

"Sometime after you go back to sleep." She mixes some Nuka-Cola in with the tatos. "It's apparent you're tired. Let me go alone this time while you catch up."

"Not a chance, Beth. Seems like you'd know me well enough by now. It's a little insulting, to be honest." I stand to head upstairs. "I'll be ready whenever you are, so let me know. Alright?"

With a sigh, she agrees, "Alright." As I head upstairs, she calls, "Give me half an hour to finish this!"

Sitting on the bed to pull my boots on—and dreading the next half hour of waiting—I fall back onto the mattress, saying to myself, "I'm not gonna fall asleep, I swear." But as I was suspecting, I fail completely and return to slumber within a few seconds of laying down.

Seemingly a few minutes later, Beth walks in, saying, "Sorry it took so long—" I sit up immediately, rubbing my eyes. "You went back to sleep, didn't you?"

I scoff, "No. Don't be crazy," while rubbing my eyes still.

She just laughs. "Did you still want to go with me?"

"Well, yeah," I say a bit agitatedly as I finish tying my boots, which I had left completely undone before crashing. "What time is it anyway?" I ask as I stand up from the bed.

"Seven-thirty. Took me a while to finish, but hey—at least dinner's done." As I stand here, blinking rapidly to try and wake up, she suggests, "Maybe I should drive the boat…"

"'Kay," I agree as we leave the house.

* * *

Pulling our boat as near to the airport as we can without beaching it, we aboard the small aircraft to take us up to the big aircraft. As I climb off after her, I cringe. "Still hate those things."

"I'm sure you'll get used to them." She just shakes her head and makes her way to the command deck.

"Hey, once you live through a Vertibird-induced cave-in, _then_ you can let me know if _your_ opinion changes." I glare at her with a semi-sour expression.

She nods her head as we walk through the door. "Touché."

Strolling up to the head honcho, Beth does the weird salute I see the rest of the soldiers do. "Elder."

"Soldier." He returns the salute. "It's been a while. Any particular reason you have returned?"

"Actually, Elder… Yes. …I think I may have a way to get into the Institute," Beth seems almost reluctant to share.

"You have to be joking with me…" For once, boss-man is almost speechless.

"No, sir. I have reason to believe that some blueprints I fell upon are to a device we can use to teleport directly into the facility."

"And you just… happened upon these blueprints, soldier?" He seems dubious about the whole deal.

Beth takes a deep breath. It seems she didn't want him to be so curious. "A man that worked for them owed me a favour. This is how he repaid me." I can see the thought of _please don't ask any more questions_ on her face as she stands there.

For a second, the man stares at her as if he's contemplating if he wants to trust her, or to just throw her off the ship headfirst. Finally, "Go see Ingram. Immediately."

"Yes, sir." Beth spins on her heel and heads toward the big ladder with me in tow, a look of mild annoyance toward the so-called "Elder" on my face.

Finding our way back to the gearhead garage, Beth finds who she called Proctor Ingram with ease. "Proctor," she greets.

"Ah, Initiate. What do I owe the pleasure?"

Beth hands her the rolled up piece of paper. "Perhaps we can speak in private about those?" The lady looks confused, but ultimately nods and follows Beth to a more remote area.

Once reaching a place with no one other than Ingram, Beth, and myself, the Proctor unravels the blueprints with curiosity. Seeing what they are, she swears under her breath. "Are these what I think they are?" She looks at Beth with utter shock and disbelief.

"Yes, they are, Proctor. Blueprints for—"

"—A teleportation device to the Institute!" She looks back at them with eyes as round as doorknobs. "Where did you get these?!" Looking at Beth briefly—to the look of discomfort on her face—she quickly says, "Nevermind. I don't want to know." She starts stomping toward the place we came from before turning back to Beth. "Did you discuss this with Elder Maxson yet?"

"I did. He told me to come here straight away."

"Good, good. We _need_ to get started right away. There're some parts we'll need, but I can get some field scribes on that ASAP. Who else knows about this, soldier?"

"Nobody except you and the Elder. I went to him and then straight to you, as directed."

Ingram looks around at the other soldiers aboard the Prydwen. "I'll need to get a team together. Maybe Quinlan can help me." Her eyes start to wonder as she goes deep into thought, into planning. Looking back to Beth suddenly, "Thank you so much. We can handle this for now. Come back in a week to see where the project stands. Who better a person to infiltrate the Institute than the person that gave the means in the first place?"

Beth beams. "I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

As I sit on a crate on the flight deck, Beth is busy pacing back and forth, doing a rather good impression of a mongrel pacing the wilderness.

"Beth, pacing isn't helping the time go by quicker." At first, she acts as if she didn't hear me. Then, stopping completely, she turns to face me, a ginormous smile on her face.

"It's finally happening, Robert. _It's happening!_ How can I _not_ pace?!" She turns and resumes said pacing. "I mean, what else am I supposed to do?"

"She said check back in a week. It's been all of twenty minutes. Do you plan on pacing for the remaining six days?" Her movement slows but doesn't stop.

"I know she said a week. But I don't know what to do for _now_." She stops again, looking at me. "Maybe they'll let me help?"

"Beth." With a warning in my voice, I stand and move to her. "I'm pretty sure they have it under control." I already know what she's going to say as she opens her mouth. Cutting her off with an answer already, I say, "And no. Us helping them won't speed up the process that much. They're supposed to be professionals, right? They got this."

She looks like she wants to protest, but ultimately sighs. "Right. You're right." She looks out to the city. "I need to think about something else."

"Like what?" I ask.

"I don't know. Anything." She looks northwest, close to Bunker Hill then back at me. "We could visit Deacon?" Her idea sounds more like a question than a statement.

"We could," I agree. "Whatever you want."

"That easy? I didn't think you cared for Deacon." _Always observant, isn't she?_

"I didn't," I admit. "But after his visit back home, and his, uh… story… I can sympathize with him more." I'd been thinking about his motives, putting everything he does together for a little while, and it makes some sense in my mind. Voicing them, I say, "He's careful and sneaky to prevent the people he's close to from getting hurt again. That's an admirable aspect about him."

"Wow. Didn't think you'd just set your jealousy aside like that."

"I wasn't jealous!" I exclaim, feeling redness spread across my face. Seeing it, she laughs.

"Not jealous, huh? Okay, bud." She continues to giggle as she heads toward the Vertibirds.

* * *

The Lancer-Initiate lands not too far from Goodneighbor, leaving a decent trek ahead of us. This gives us some time to talk.

"So, Deacon, huh?" I ask her. "What do you want to see him for?"

"I don't know," she answers as she walks in front of me, leading the way as per usual. "Just kinda do. Plus, I thought it'd be cool to tell him about the whole Institute deal. Since he's known about Shaun this whole time…" She shakes her head in confusion or admiration, possibly both. "Anyway… Thought it'd be nice to tell him I have a major chance at finding him now."

"Oh, okay."

She turns, slowing her pace to walk beside me. "Why so short an answer?"

"Didn't know I needed an oral essay of a response," I joke with her, nudging her arm.

She just laughs. "Yeah. Guess I'm just good at looking into things too much, eh?" she asks with a smile.

"Part of being a lawyer, right? No big deal, Beth. I'm pretty much used to it by now," I grin back at her.

As we stand at Old North Church, Beth grabs my arm lightly. "Hey." I look at her, my brows slightly scrunched. "Try not to bring up last night unless he does, okay? He seemed upset in the note he left, and I don't wanna trigger him."

"How could you even tell? It was just a vague note."

"He brought up the part that was most uncomfortable to him, then quickly deflected it. Like I said," she opens the door to the church. "I look too much into things."

* * *

 _A/N: There isn't a song to this chapter, I know. There will be another chapter without a song for inspiration. They just kind of came out of nowhere, I guess. Like how we all wish our lost socks would do one of these days._


	20. 19 Love Me Like You Do

_A/N: This band is honestly amazing, and I love their covers to death. Their version of this song is so much better than the original, I can't even listen to Ellie's anymore._

 _I would definitely drop by their YouTube channel and give them a go._

* * *

19\. Love Me Like You Do

Beth POV

 _Love Me Like You Do_ by Twenty One Two (Ellie Goulding cover)

As Robert and I walk into the Railroad HQ, we're greeted by a shocked Deacon, which surprises us due to his knowledge of _everything_ that happens.

"Hey! What are you guys doing here?!" Deacon comes over to us, giving me a hug.

"You know, just passing through," I say nonchalantly.

Desdemona hears the commotion and comes over as well. "Well, hello. I'm glad you dropped by. I've been wanting to personally thank you for the help you gave Deacon at Switchboard."

"It wasn't a big deal," I shrug it off. "With the three of us there, it was simple."

"Not from what I've heard." She gives Deacon a hard look.

"You know me, Dez. I have to make everything sound better or I just get bored retelling my stories." His face shows no remorse at his sin of lying—although it is hard to tell behind his ever present sunglasses.

"Well, what's important is that we all got out and got the prototype you needed," I interject.

"That's true," Deacon agrees. "What she says." Turning to me, "Hey, wanna go for a walk?" He looks at Robert, nodding an acknowledgment of sorts to him, to which Robert returns a nod of his own. _What happened between these two?_ I wonder in amusement.

"Uh, sure." I look at Desdemona. "Guess I'll be seeing you later." As I turn back the way we came, Deacon grabs my arm.

"Nah, let's go this way." Confused, I follow him. _Is there another door?_ "Bye, Dez." We walk through a door, out of earshot, and Deacon explains. "We have a secret door in case we need to scram in a hurry. The escape tunnel back at Switchboard helped some of us get out at least." After walking for a few minutes down the tunnel, he stops and about faces, nearly making me collide with him. "What'd you wanna talk about?"

"Um… You were the one to ask if _I_ wanted to go for a walk, implying _you're_ the one that wants to talk."

"Although that normally would be true, it isn't in this case. I mean, we're talking about me here, for God's sake," he feigns insanity—okay, maybe not faking as much as acting on it. "So, what's been going on? You haven't been around since the time you stumbled in here. So, there has to be a reason."

A little embarrassed, I smirk. "You're a sharp-eyed man, aren't you?"

"Gotta be." He stares at me, waiting patiently for an actual response.

A bit sheepish to tell him, I start off slow. "Okay… So, I might have some news. Like… Institute related news."

His jaw goes slack, then he grins. "Like I didn't already know."

"Did you." I'm skeptical, making the question not sound as such.

"Okay, no. But, anyway. Lay it on me." _I'm surprised he admitted it._

 _How am I supposed to word this?_ I think right before Robert cuts in, telling Deacon everything in a single sentence. "Kellogg gave Beth some blueprints to a teleporter, and the Brotherhood is going to help us with the building it part—they're thinking it'll be done in a week.

I'm about to turn around and get in Robert's face for speaking ahead when Deacon grabs me by my arms and towers over me. _"No way!"_

Taken a little aback by his response, I lose all annoyance at Robert and just stare at Deacon. "Uh… yes way."

"A teleportation apparatus that can just take you into the Institute?!" He looks utterly dumbstruck. More to himself than us, "So, that's how they move around so quick…" Looking behind me to Robert, "You said them Brotherhood goons are going to have it done in about a week?" I give him a nasty look at his comment on the BOS, which he doesn't notice.

"About a week, yeah. She said they'd let us know if they needed help, but she sounded pretty confident toward that timeframe."

"So soon," Deacon mutters. After a second, "Be right back," and he disappears back the way we came, back toward HQ.

"What do you think he's up to now?" Robert asks a minute after he disappeared.

"No idea. Who's to say—he's so kooky."

After a good ten minutes, he comes back with a holotape in his hand. "Here," he hands it to me. Seeing my confused face, he explains. "We've been after these creeps for decades now. Even the slightest bit of information can help us know how they run—can help us free more synths. I know you didn't know Barb, but please. Do it for me. Just plug that tape into any terminal there and it will suck up more information than you think could fit on it."

"…Okay," I say, putting the holotape into the pouch on Robert's belt. "You can count on it being done, Deacon."

He steps forward and puts his arms around me. Not a light hug like he'd given me before, but a legitimate hug with true emotion behind it. "Thank you, Beth. You're the closest friend I've ever had." I hug him back. _Strange how I don't even really know this man, yet I'm so comfortable with him._

I half expected Robert to intervene, but he just walks past me, a small smile on his face, before sitting on a nearby pipe sticking out of the wall. _When did he decide to put his jealousy away?_

* * *

The next six days went by incredibly slow. Nothing on this big, brown earth could have made the time speed up. Not visiting Deacon, not roaming around the ruins of Boston. Not playing billiards in the living room at home, and not even reading from my giant book collection. Robert would try to make me calm down by saying things like, _It'll be done when it's done_ or _You've been out here for almost half a year. What's another few days?_ But nothing worked—I just got more and more anxious.

I actually didn't know what stress was until I learned that the teleporter _was_ ready.

* * *

"Hon, there's a Vertibird on the north end," Robert calls out from the front door. Looking back at me in the kitchen, he asks, "Were we expecting BOS company?"

"No," I reply as I make my way through the hallway to him. Looking out at the north end of the island, I see a set of T-60 power armour heading toward us. After it comes closer, I recognize the black hair sitting atop the soldier's head. "Danse!" I run to greet him. "What're you doing here?"

"Proctor Ingram sent me. She wishes me to tell you that the teleporter is ready."

I feel my jaw hit the ground. "It's ready?"

"Yes. She said to come as soon as you see fit. So, I take it you're the one who's going to be using it?"

"Yeah," I wring the back of my neck with my hand. "Wow. It's here…"

"I'm happy for you, soldier." He smiles down at me.

"Please. Just Beth."

"Okay, then. I'm happy for you, Beth. I hope you find your son."

"Me, too." I smile up at him. "Tell her I'll be there in the morning, okay?"

"Will do," he goes to stomp off toward the Vertibird before turning back to me. "I'm running an op tomorrow, so I won't see you before you go. Be careful, Beth. Don't trust anyone."

"Thanks, Danse. I'll try to catch up with you after I get back." He smiles and nods, once again heading to the aircraft.

As I go into the house, I call to Robert, "Where are you?"

"In here," he laughs from the living room. I find him sitting in his favourite blue armchair, reading from his Poe collection. Putting it aside, he asks, "What'd Captain Tin Can want?"

"Oh, hush," I chuckle.

Finally thinking about what he said in full, I realize it's become harder to breathe. My chest feels tight and I start to feel a coughing fit coming on. Robert's face grows from curiosity to concern. "Beth?" I sit on the nearest chair.

I point to the kitchen. "Quantum." He looks confused but goes to the kitchen as I try to slow my breathing—try to remember the breathing exercises I learned as a girl. When he returns with an opened soda, I take a few steady swigs then resume my slowed breathing.

After a few minutes, I start to feel better. "Beth, what's wrong?"

Staying seated, I explain, "I had asthma as a kid. It's a kind of problem with your lung airways—a disease. Didn't think I'd ever have a problem with it again in my adult years. But, emotional stress can cause attacks, so I shouldn't be surprised."

"Are you okay _now_?" He crouches in front of me, his face still showing apprehension.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just glad I remembered what to do since I don't have an inhaler. My doctor had told me that focusing on your breathing—slowing it—helps, and sometimes caffeine does, too." I gesture to the Nuka in my hand. "I'm fine," I assure him as he continues to give me a look of concern.

He stands and sits on the arm of my chair, rubbing small circles onto my back. "You don't have to tell me if it'll cause that again."

"No, I need to. Just… give me a few."

After a few minutes had gone by, I take my Quantum back to the kitchen and feel much better. As I come back into the living room, I think of how to word it. Coming up short, I just spit it out.

"The teleporter's ready."

He looks as shocked as I felt when informed by Danse. "What?"

"Yeah. I'm going in the morning." Since he slid down into the chair I was sitting in, I decide to just sit on his lap. Resting my head on his shoulder, I say, "Crazy, huh? Just earlier, I couldn't wait. Now? I don't even know."

"Maybe we should talk to Ingram about it first," he suggests. "You know, get a better gist of what's going on here."

Thinking about it for a few seconds, I nod. "Not a bad idea."

* * *

"Soldier." Robert and I are greeted by Elder Maxson—on the ground of the airport.

"Elder—I never thought I'd see you leave the ship, sir," I say in surprise.

"It is an important time for the Brotherhood. I wished to see the project for myself—once I learned it was _finally_ completed." He looks at Ingram, who I just see walking around the module.

"Not my fault, sir. I had adjustments to make. And apparently that Scribe-Initiate thought I didn't mean for them to tell you right away."

Maxson waves a dismissive hand. Turning back to me, "I have been thinking for the better part of this week, soldier. I believe—with your enormous contribution to finding a way into the Institute—that you deserve a promotion. Congratulations, Knight."

I'm shocked. "Wow. Thank you, sir." He nods once. He nods at Ingram as well as he turns and makes his way back to the Prydwen for the evening.

"I'm actually glad you're here, Initiate—I mean, Knight. Congrats, by the way." I utter a small _thanks._ "Anyway… I've been wanting to talk to you about this thing." She jams a thumb at the machine. "And you, too." She looks at Robert, surprising him, as he's normally left out here in the Brotherhood.

"I'm gonna cut right to it: there's a chance this thing won't even work. We—I—have never dealt with technology concerning teleportation. On the off chance that it _doesn't_ work, it could be a pretty painful death, I won't lie. However, if it does work, it can help us take them down for good. It's up to you. I know you suspect they have your son, and that gives you good reason to go yourself. But if you don't want to be the one, I'm sure someone else will step up to infiltrate the Institute."

I look to Robert at my side, to his face. He looks about terrified to death at what the Proctor just said. As the seconds tick by, in a quiet voice he asks her, "Is there a chance that both of us can go?"

"Afraid not. Sorry, kid," she responds. "I'm surprised you'd want to after what I just said."

Continuing to look at him, I say, "Then you don't know him very well." Seeing the indecision in his eyes, I ask her, "Would it be okay if we talked it over and got back to you in the morning?"

"Of course. I'd hate to say to take your time, but don't just rush through it either, okay?"

I grab Robert's hand and start heading back to our boat. "Thanks, Proctor. Either way, see you in the morning."

* * *

"Are you sure?" he asks me as we're cuddled up on our bed, talking through the options we face.

"What other choice do I have, babe? They have Shaun. I can't just back up with my hands raised. I can't just give up." I pause for a second. "I have to do it—I have to go. I've come this far—it'd be stupid to just give up now."

His face betrays the apprehension he's feeling. "What if we just squeezed together really tight? It's the dematerialization they're worried about, right? Well, if we're really close, it shouldn't matter. Right?" He looks at me, sadness in his eyes.

"Doesn't sound like that's an option we have. I'd never ask you to risk your life like that anyway."

"You're not asking—I'm not even offering. It's just a thing. We gotta try it…"

"I'm not letting you. You heard the chances—there's a chance I could die in there. I'm not gonna let you take yourself away from Duncan. He needs his dad, and I'm not going to be the person to take that away from him."

"But—"

"No buts," I cut him off. "I'm going—you're staying. That's final." The sadness in his eyes have grown even more evident, knowing I have a point. He looks so torn. "Hey," I grab his chin, pulling it toward me. "Everything's gonna be okay. I'm going through there, I'm gonna get Shaun, and we can all live happily when we get back, okay? The four of us—the family we've always deserved." Although he smiles, it doesn't touch his eyes. "You know what?"

"What?" he responds in a wounded voice.

"I love you."

He smiles again. Not quite happiness, but something close to it, shows in his face this time. "I love you, too." He cranes his neck and gives me a kiss.

Holding onto the back of his neck as he pulls away, I ask, "Where you going?" Kissing him again, I make the decision I haven't been able to yet. "Hey," I say as I rest my forehead against his.

"Hm?"

"I'm ready."

"To go? Yeah, I know. There's no stopping you once you make up your mind."

"No." I plant a sensual kiss on his neck. "I'm ready." Looking him in the eyes, I see the realization hit.

"…Why now?"

"I don't know what I'm walking into tomorrow. I'd regret it if something happened. Not that anything is going to," I clarify, knowing he's going down the negative road instantly.

With his brows knit together, "You sure?"

"More than anything." I climb on top of him, grabbing his face with my hands, and kiss him with more vigor than I ever have before.

At first, I can feel him hesitating. Whether due to not being sure if I'm lying or for his own reasons, I'm not positive. But as the seconds pass, I feel him melting into it more and more, soon responding with as much a carnivourous and carnal need as I am. As I run my fingers through his hair, I feel him grabbing at my waist, dying to have me closer to him. Scooting closer up his torso, he unzips my vaultsuit, struggling to get it out of his way. Taking my hands from playing in his hair to my fabric, I quickly remove the upper half of my suit, leaving me nearly half naked—only the lower half and my bra remaining. I then move onto his own clothing—set on me not being the only one showing some skin. Already having his duster off helps as I quickly unbutton his shirt, savouring the skin underneath, feeling the scar he showed me back at the metro. Once I managed to wiggle out of the other half of my clothing, the rest of his follows suit. As he flips me onto my back, I can't help the giggle that escapes my lips. He's smiling from ear to ear—one of the happiest faces I've even seen him wear. After a moment, it starts to fade—being replaced by a bit of trepidation in his eyes.

"I'm sure," I encourage him again. "There's nothing more I could possibly want right now." I caress his cheek. "…What are you waiting for?"

* * *

As I wake in the morning, I can't help but to feel different than all the other days I've woken up in this bed. I feel more vulnerable, more exposed—quite literally, as I realize I'm naked. But I also feel more vibrant and alive than I ever have on any other morning.

I finally open my eyes to see Robert, covered with nothing more than the blanket and myself. And snoring as loudly as humanly possible. I can't help but to chuckle, all the while hoping I don't wake him. _He's so peaceful when he's asleep… I can't dare wake him up right now._

After a few minutes pass—and I let my brain travel through the past, through all what happened last night—I come to remember the whole reason behind it, the whole reason I've been trudging through this wasteland. Before meeting him, of course.

The Institute awaits.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Robert wakes up, his eyebrows instantly scrunching together—before opening his eyes even.

"Is it tomorrow already?" He takes his free hand, as one of them is always placed on me in bed, and rubs his eyes, blinking into the morning light as he lifts his head to the time on my Pip-Boy.

"Afraid so, love." He slams his head back onto the pillow with a grunt.

As he hugs me to him, he says, "I changed my mind. You can't go. We'll just stay here and let some Brotherhood dude go and bring Shaun back."

"You know I can't do that, Robert. I have to find him myself." He just grunts again, his way of angrily giving in. I lean up onto my elbow and wait for him to look at me. "It won't take long. And as I've said—I'll say it again—everything is going to be okay." I stand as I say, "Now, help me pick out some clothes."

He looks after me with a smirk as I walk to the nearby bureau. "What if I don't want you to get dressed?" He stands and moves up behind me, hugging me to his chest. "What if I wanna enjoy the view?"

"Well, you can't see much from there," I tease him, turning around to hug him back. "Now, help me pick out some clothes," I repeat.

"Why do I need to help you pick out what you never stop wearing?" He retorts, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Well…" I start as I dig through the drawers. "I figured that suit is old hat by now. And now that I've officially been ruined by the wasteland…" I look back at him with a smirk of my own, to which he smiles almost sheepishly. "I thought maybe it's about time I wear some Commonwealth attire." I pull out some poor dead drifter's outfit. "What about this?"

He smiles at me. "You'll look great, no matter what you wear." His smile turns into that smirk of his again. "I still say nothing at all."

"Oh, cause that's such a great idea. I totally want to go not only to the Brotherhood like that, or even the Institute like that. But I _definitely_ want Shaun to see me in the nude." I laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm ri-what-ulous?" His never ending smirk beams on.

"Oh my gosh!" I jump on him, throwing my new clothes to the side.

* * *

"Nice outfit, Knight," Ingram greets me as I walk up to her in the mess hall.

"Thanks," I reply. "Ready to get this show on the road?"

"So, you're going in after all?" She seems a little surprised.

"Of course. My son needs me." I grip Robert's hand. "Besides, it's not like I don't have a reason to come back."

"How cute." Her face doesn't show the emotion in her voice. "Well, I'll be ready here in about twenty minutes. I'll grab Maxson on the way down. He said he wanted to be present." She turns back to her breakfast. "See you down there," she says around a mouthful.

As Robert and I head down to the airport where the teleporter was built, I start to feel my first bout of nerves. Real nerves. Not like what caused my minor asthma attack yesterday, or even what I was feeling this morning, almost dreading this. I actually feel… _happy_ … knowing that Shaun is naught but a few hours away, at most.

Deep in thought, Robert almost scares me when he hands me something: a holotape. "Don't forget about this—for Deacon."

"How could I forget?" I ask—although I already had—and tuck it into one of my pockets— _Pockets! Finally_! "I mean, you know he's my favourite." He raises a brow in a look that says, _Oh, really?_ "I'm just kidding." I stretch up onto my toes and give him a kiss as I hear a man behind me clear his throat, cutting my affection short.

"Knight." I turn to see Elder Maxson with his hands behind his back. _Always such formal manners._ I salute him. "At ease." He waves his hand. "I came here to see the teleporter work for myself. Some things cannot be described adequately through documentation, you understand."

"Yes, sir."

Ingram walks up from behind him, having heard our conversation from the look on her face. "In due respect, I think my reports are good enough, sir. But… have it your way. Let's get this baby booted up." She goes up to the control panel, flipping switches as she goes.

With the machine humming to life, Maxson once again gains my attention. "Contact is going to be broken once you step through this, so I'm going to say something, and I wish you to remember it:

"We have reason to believe there's a woman known as Madison Li in the Institute. She has been a part of the Brotherhood before, but exiled herself from the Capital Wasteland to here, in the Commonwealth. Most likely, she is there. If so, find her and convince her to join us once again. We have projects that could use her expertise."

"Will do, sir."

At this time, the module is running at full power, ready to be used at a moment's notice. Maxson stands back as he prepares to see a human being disappear before his very eyes—Ingram is still busily typing away at the control panel.

"Whenever you're ready, Knight," she says, "go ahead and step onto the platform."

I turn to Robert. His face is nothing more than a smooth mask to outsiders—but I know him all too well. Right underneath his carefully composed face, he's hiding his discomfort, anger, and just plain unhappiness.

"Hey," I grab his attention. "I'll see you in a little bit."

He looks down at me, his façade slipping however slightly. His tone confirms what I already knew. "Just a little bit, okay? I can't handle losing someone a second time. Especially you." He bends down, leaning his forehead against mine as he wraps me in an embrace. After a beat, "I love you, Beth. Please come back."

"You're acting like I'm leaving you for good," I grin, gaining a small one from him as well. "Yes, just a little bit." I hug him tightly to me. "I love you, too, Robert."

Looking down at him once I step onto the platform, I smile one last time before feeling a bolt of electricity jolt through my body.

* * *

 _A/N: Finally, they bumped uglies. Sorry_ — _I had to say it._


	21. 20 Grief

20\. Grief

MacCready POV

 _Desperation_ by Steppenwolf

 _A nightmare. This has to be a nightmare._

As I'm standing here at the old Boston Airport, I'm surrounded by smoke and two voices conversing a bit nervously.

"That wasn't supposed to happen…"

"Well, fix it, Ingram!"

"I don't know what to do, sir!"

"Figure something out—we just lost one of our soldiers!"

"I mean no disrespect, but I'm not sure how get her back! This is the first time we've done anything even remotely like this."

 _She's not here. Where is she._

I can't help the monotone edge to my thoughts as I run over what just happened in my head.

One second, Beth is smiling down at me from atop the platform of the teleporter. The next, she's gone and there's smoke everywhere and the machine's burned up and she's not here.

The two voices, which I've identified as Maxson and Ingram, continue speaking in low, frantic voices.

I drop to my knees, my mind utterly blank—of course, that's besides the panic looming over me, threatening to take over at any second.

"Uh, sir? What do we do with…?" I hear Ingram ask.

After a brief pause, "I'll take him up to the Prydwen. Sort. This. Out."

Although I can hear and register what they're saying, their words have no weight, they don't mean anything. When I feel a hand on my shoulder, that's when the panic sets in.

Jumping up instantly—and ridding his hand from my body in the process—I whip toward the leader of the Brotherhood. My eyes alone tell him to remove himself from my presence. Wisely, he backs off a bit. "We should be heading back to the ship," he says.

"Like _hell_ I'm moving from this spot until she gets back." My voice is dripping with pure hatred.

"We don't know how long she'll be in the Institute—"

"We don't even know if she made it!" I yell at him as I point to all the equipment. "Are you that _blind?_ How could she have made it _through_ that?!" Even though Maxson is taller than me, I loom over him in my anger. "She's gone now—because of _you!_ "

He gets some of his austereness back. "She decided herself that she was going through with it. You were standing there, right as you are now. Did I push her onto it?" I find his condescending tone exhausting.

Seeing that this exchange is going nowhere, I trudge past him, knocking him in the shoulder along the way, and sit on a bench near the burnt machine. "I'm not leaving," I say, a challenge to force me otherwise evident in my tone.

He looks at me with a look I can't quite comprehend—pity, anger, woe? Perhaps a combination of the three. He looks to Ingram. "See to it that he doesn't do anything stupid. And for God's sake—do everything you possibly can to get her out."

"Yes, sir," she responds, turning back to the fried control panel.

I see from the corner of my eye that she's looking at me once Maxson leaves. "I'm not leaving," I repeat, this time to her. "I need to be here when she gets back." She walks up to me. Feeling like I could start crying at any moment, I suck it up and ask her, "How do you plan on doing that? Getting her back?" I look up at the towering woman.

"…I'm not sure yet. Maybe I can build another and send for her somehow…"

"If you'd get on that, you don't have a clue how grateful I'd be, Proctor." I can see a bit of surprise at me using her official title—since I never had before.

"I'll… see what I can do." She goes to walk off, back to the Prydwen. Turning back, "Need anything?"

"Not unless you plan on getting her back right now… no."

She nods, a look of understanding on her face.

As the hours go by, I do nothing but continue sitting here, waiting for Beth to come back. Minutes feel like hours, hours feel like minutes. Nothing can make time have value right now.

The sun starts setting, and I can't remember when noon even hit today.

 _She has to come back…_

The moon is well across the sky, signaling it's at least three in the morning.

 _She should have let me go instead…_

The sun has started its ascension into the sky, showing daytime is here once again.

 _What if she never comes back? What if she died? What if Shaun wasn't even there, making all this for nothing? What am I going to do without her?_

 _I know I've never been one to pray, but please, bring her back! I'll do anything! Please!_

I see Proctor Ingram walking toward me, but I'm too busy doing nothing to look her way. "You're still out here?" she asks me. "You look horrible. You didn't sleep, did you?" Barely able to register what she asked, I shake my head. "Didn't think so… Here. I brought you this." She sets down a couple bottles of purified water and a small sack of vegetables. "I figure since you haven't slept, you're probably not gonna eat or drink either, but… I have to try. Beth's gonna need you when she gets back. And depriving yourself of your needs aren't going to help her any." Seeing no physical response, she says, "Well, I tried. If she gets onto you for letting yourself go… that's all on you, pal."

She sighs heavily, saying, "I can see it, you know. The way you look at her—the way she looks at you. It'd be a shame for her to _actually_ come back, and you to just be… _here._ She'd want you to take better care of yourself." Hearing naught a word from me, "Stubborn. I'll give you that."

As she walks away, I know that I was rude, but I couldn't help it. I haven't spoken a word since yesterday morning. And I don't feel like changing that anytime soon.

* * *

When the next day rolls around, I actually decide to heed Ingram's words. _Beth will need me, and I'm doing nothing but sitting around, going to waste._ I eat from the bag the Proctor brought, drink from the water. I even try out sleeping, but it proves useless as I do nothing but toss and turn on the bench—even the ground won't suffice. Left with nothing but my thoughts, I can feel myself slowly spiraling into a depression—thinking about nothing but negative thoughts about the situation.

 _She's never coming back. It's all my fault. I should have told her a more resounding 'no.' I bet Shaun's not even there. I bet he died out here, like I should have when I was his age._

Nothing but negative thoughts. But I keep myself maintained on the off chance she actually shows up sometime.

* * *

I decided to go up to the Prydwen to see what I could do about catching a shower. After taking possibly the longest, hottest shower I've ever taken—and being unable to enjoy it—I go back out to the teleporter. Not a single minute after I sit down on the bench—now implanted with a seemingly permanent butt mark—I see the brightest flash of light ever. Then—

 _Bang!_

* * *

Standing before me is Beth, in the flesh.

With her back turned to me, I call out. "…Beth?" She turns around as I get to my feet. She looks utterly beaten down: her eyes surrounded by purple puffiness, her skin even paler than her normal ivory colour. Before I get the chance to cross the ten feet between us, her eyes widen for the slightest second before they close completely, her body crumpling on the ground.

"Beth!" Running up to her, I check for a pulse on her neck. Feeling a faint but steady beat, I call for help as loud as I can. With no response, I try my best to pick her up as carefully as possible. Carrying her back to the area with Brotherhood populace, I see Danse of all people. "Danse!" I yell out. Turning immediately, he sees Beth and runs toward us.

Exclaiming an oath, he asks, "When did she get back?!"

"A minute ago. She looked to me, then just… collapsed."

"She needs to see Cade—find out if anything's wrong with her. Follow me."

* * *

After reaching the Vertibird, the man Danse talked about—Cade—checked her. He said nothing was out of the ordinary, just a lack of sleep and perhaps a mental trauma—he assured everything was okay, but to just watch her.

I convinced Danse it'd be best for her to be home when she woke up, so he personally escorted us via Vertibird back to Spectacle Island. He even carried her in, laying her down in our room, when he saw me struggling with her weight under all the stress of everything.

After thanking him, he took off on the whirligig, leaving me with nothing but a quiet house and an unconscious Beth.

* * *

I'll admit it: as I laid on the bed next to her, waiting for her to wake up, I fell asleep a few times—okay, maybe more than a few.

But I'm plenty awake as she starts to stir, making little but frightened sounds as she shifts in small movements. Finally finding her eyes, she opens them, looking up at the ceiling in confusion. Then she starts to blink more rapidly, confusion being replaced by fear, and slowly starts to prop herself up on her elbows. Seeing me, she stops completely. I'm afraid she's about to pounce, acting on her horrors—but instead, she jumps on me in a mixture of delight and helplessness, a different kind of fear altogether.

Hugging her to me, I feel her body start to shake, hear her quiet sobs as I feel them leaking through my shirt.

Suddenly, I'm reminded why she went in the first place, and how she came back alone. I was so worried about her, that I'd completely forgotten about how Shaun was supposed to be with her. _What happened to him? Is he…?_ I can't help but to wonder what has shaken her to her core so much.

After a good half hour of silent condolences, she raises her head and I see a hollowness in her eyes. I want to ask what happened so bad, but know better than that. Ran dry and red-lined, her eyes look up and meet my own. She doesn't seem to know where to start.

Finally, "He's there. My… son… is there—in the Institute."

I move a piece of hair out of her face. "How about you start at the beginning. That may help."

* * *

"He's… I can't believe it," I say in disbelief.

"Oh, you better believe it," she mutters, her eyes too gave out to produce any more salty precipitation. "He tricked me—used me as a… an experiment." A hard look comes over her face. "He's not my son. By blood—but that is all. Nate would be…" She closes her eyes, shaking her head. Continuing on a previous thought of hers, "They're evil. The whole facility. My son… is evil. He's playing God, and doesn't care about the consequences." She looks me dead in the eye. "They need to be stopped… _He_ … needs to be stopped. I'll tell Maxson everything tomorrow—put this to rest."

"…Are you sure that's what you want?"

She looks away. "It's what I _need_." She pauses. "I've killed people for the betterment of other people's lives—Raiders. Gunners. Mutants…" Another pause as she looks back at me. "This time is no different. Except it's for the _entire_ Commonwealth."

* * *

 _A/N: I'm kind of ashamed to say I sided with the Institute on my first playthrough. But it felt so wrong_ — _even as I was doing it. My second playthrough_ — _the one with Beth_ — _I obviously did not._


	22. 21 Plus Fifty

21\. Plus Fifty

MacCready POV

 _This Is War_ by 30 Seconds To Mars

Beth didn't sleep a wink last night. She _was_ passed out for several hours, but still. She just laid there, her eyes unblinking, staring into the ceiling with the blankest look on her face. It was very unnerving.

According to her Pip-Boy—laying on my side of the bed for once—it's nearly eight in the morning. Not long after checking the time, I hear a Vertibird coming our way. "I'm gonna go check on that. Be right back." She doesn't respond.

When I get closer, I see it's the Brotherhood—like I was suspecting. I recognize Danse.

"Hello," he greets as he stomps his way closer to the house. "Came to check on Beth. How is she?"

"She's awake," I mutter, nearly inaudible. Clearing my throat, I repeat, "She's awake. Woke up some time last night."

"Oh, that's great. She had me going there for a while." He sighs a breath of relief.

" _You_ were?" I ask sarcastically. "Imagine how it felt to be in my shoes the past, like four days."

"Yeah, Ingram told me what happened. I was wondering if there was any way I could help, but I knew there wasn't… so I left you alone." He shakes his head, unable to fathom the experience.

After a minute of awkward silence, I say, "Well, not to be rude, but is it okay if we just talk later? I really don't want to leave her alone and visitors probably aren't the best idea right now. She said she's going to give a rundown of what happened to Maxson later, if she's still up to it—I imagine we'll be bumping into you, so you'll get to see her then."

He looks down at me, his eyes sympathetic. Completely ignoring what I just said, he asks, "Did she tell you?"

I look to the ground and nod after a second. "Yeah… It's pretty fu—screwed up… I feel it's not really my place to talk about it, though. She'll probably catch you up when we see you later."

"Okay… I'll send someone with your boat. I realize it's still at the airport. Well, I was just making sure you guys were okay. I suppose I'll be seeing you later, then." I wave a second too late as he turns and heads back to the Vertibird.

As I walk back into the house, I grab some leftover vegetable stew from the other night. Taking it up to Beth, I see she's sat up in bed. When I walk in, she asks, "Who was that?"

"Danse. He wanted to check on you—make sure you're awake." She just nods. Even though his involvement was after she fell unconscious, she acts like it doesn't surprise her. Trying to hand her the bowl of stew, she shakes her head. "Beth, you need to eat something. When was the last time you ate?" I feel her cheek—feel what seems to be a slight fever. "Or drank for that matter?" She continues to look past me with a blank stare. Compared to last night however, she shows a bit more of emotion—a bit more anger. "Hey." I set the bowl down and look her right in the eyes despite her avoiding mine. After she reluctantly looks at me, I say, "You need to stay healthy. If not for you, do it for me at least?" She just continues to stare at me.

I continue. "When the teleporter burned up the other day, I thought I'd lost you. But Proctor Ingram came and checked on me, brought me food and water, told me maybe some sleep would help. I didn't feel like doing anything. But she convinced me, that if you were coming back—and she felt strongly that you would—that I'd need to be healthy to help you, if you needed it.

"It's no different here. You need to be healthy for _me_ now. Take care of yourself, for _me_. Don't make me think I've lost you all over again."

After a moment, the look of thought crossing her expression, she points to the bowl I set down, "Get that for me?" Handing it to her, I stand and kiss the top of her head.

"Thank you." I leave to get some water for her, feeling better that she's working with me now.

* * *

"Ah, there it is," I say, seeing our boat rolling up to the island the next day. As I walk out to it, I see a young lady step off in Brotherhood fatigues.

"Hi, I'm Scribe Haylen. I'm part of Danse's recon team. He told me that you guys would be wanting your boat back, so here it is." She gestures to the watercraft.

"Good. Thanks," I tell her. "Riding back with us, or is someone picking you up?"

"Ride back with you?"

"Beth is meeting with the Elder today about… what happened. I'm sure you heard."

Realization hits. "Oh, yes. Of course… Um, sure I can go back to the Prydwen with you."

"Alright. We'll be leaving in about half an hour. You can wait in the living room if you want."

As we walk back to the house, Beth is up and on the move, getting ready. "Boat's here, you said?" she asks me.

"Yeah. She brought it back," I motion to Haylen.

"Oh." Beth is practically stumbling around trying to get one of her boots on while walking. She mutters under her breath, "Frickin' thing…" Seeing the woman, "I remember you. You're from, uh, Danse's team, right?"

The scribe grins hugely. "Yes, I am. I'm happy you remember me—most people don't. I'm just one of those people in the background."

"Oh, I getcha. I completely understand—"

I cut her off, "Um, no? Like, you haven't been in the background at all, Vault Dweller. Miss Radio Famous, Brotherhood Knight, Teleporter User—"

"Okay, okay." She puts her hand over my mouth after finally getting her boot on. "We get it," she and the scribe laugh. "I meant from _before_ the War, genius." She rolls her eyes at me to which I just shrug.

* * *

Driving the boat back to the airport proves me right even more. Haylen is doting over everything Beth says—meaning she is _not_ just in the background. _Nobody puts Beth in a corner,_ she jokes, knowing darn well I don't understand her references.

Scribe Haylen goes off somewhere as we board the Vertibird, taking us up to the airship. Even though I could've sworn Danse said we could find him in the mess hall, he's actually patrolling the flight deck. Seeing us, his face lights up. "Beth!"

"Hey, Danse," she greets with an easy smile. "How're things?"

"They were boring until a few days ago." He gives her an accusatory look, making her smile sheepishly. "I'm just glad to see you up and walking, smiling."

"Thanks," she says in a small voice. Speaking up, "Do you think Elder Maxson will let you in the room when I debrief him? That way I don't have to repeat it. I hate having to repeat myself."

"I don't see why not, if you want me there."

"Then, let's go. I can tell you're dying to hear about it."

* * *

Seeing Beth this morning in a good mood made me hopeful that she was back to normal. With everything that happened, everything she learned, I wasn't expecting such a fast recovery. But when she starts reporting to the Elder, she seems to slump back into her depression somewhat.

"Let me get this straight, Knight: your son is the director of the Institute?" Maxson seems as bewildered as I was when she told me.

"Yes, sir," she replies, her tone grave. "I spent two days and nights down there—no sleep, nothing to eat and little to drink. Not from their doing," she clarifies, "but my own—it felt like an out of body experience, and I completely forgot. Anyway, I believe I spent enough time with the people, the synths, my… son…" _She's always reluctant to say it._ "…to know that they are indeed as evil as suspected—an evil that cannot be tolerated. Due to this, I have reached the conclusion that they must be eradicated from this planet. They are as everyone says: the scourge of the Commonwealth. You want a war with them? You have me onboard, sir."

Maxson strokes his beard, a gleam in his eye. "Excellent. Are you able to go back?"

"Yes, at any time. They outfitted me with a chip implant on my Pip-Boy, allowing me to return as I see fit. They still believe I'm siding with them due to my… familial connection. And oh, I almost forgot. Um, I did find Dr. Li. She works in Advanced Systems—a department prone to better the facility and their technology. I was not able to convince her to return to the Brotherhood _yet_. She sounded extremely unsure—and from her murmurings, she does not sound happy working for them."

"Even better news," the leader says. "Do you have plans on going back soon?"

"To keep up appearances, so to say… yes, I am planning on going back within the week. I can try again to persuade her then."

"Please do," he urges. "We could use her help again." He turns to inspect the ground where a rather loud explosion took place. Turning back, "She worked on a project the Brotherhood had running ten years ago. We are striving to restore the project for our gain against the Institute. We could use her services again, since she worked on it in the past and has experience with it."

"I see," Beth says, seeming a little disinterested. "I don't know if she was like this when she worked with the Brotherhood before… but she's a very egotistical woman, condescending and vain. She is—I can tell—very smart, but will her character be a hindrance to us, sir?"

"She was as such all those years ago. Nothing we cannot handle—her brains are what we need, not her personality."

"Very well. Is there anything else you need from me today, Elder?"

"No. Thank you, Knight, for doing us this service. It must be to some degree difficult for you to go against your own flesh, but it is of your own choosing. It would be understandable if you chose to discontinue your assistance in the future. However, you have to understand also that if you do this, we will not stop our mission. They will be exterminated with or without you, soldier."

"You will not be disappointed from me, sir. I am here 'til the end—until I see them brought to their knees. I won't back out."

He seems impressed. "Alright. Dismissed."

As Beth and I turn to leave, I see Danse standing near the ladder. I'd completely forgotten he joined us for the report. His face showed no other emotion than utter shock. As we walk past him, he snaps out of it a bit and follows us back to the flight deck.

Once near the Vertibirds, he turns to Beth. "That was…" He's at a loss for words.

"Right?" She merely nods. "I'm the one who experienced it, and I still don't even know myself."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He looks down at her with his thick knitted brows.

"Will you people stop asking me?" she feigns agitation with a small chuckle. Seriously, "Once I know what I want, I know what I want. This is something I _need_ , Danse. As I told Robert last night: my son is only my son through blood—what he was raised into…" She shakes her head. "He's a monster—not human. I refuse to call him family."

"You can find support from me, Beth. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate. You know where to find me." He grins sympathetically and goes back inside the ship.

After he's gone, Beth gets a look in her eyes. Strolling up to the nearest Vertibird, she asks the pilot, "Can we get a lift to Goodneighbor? I have some errands to run."

"Of course, Knight. Hop on," the lancer says.

Beth motions for me to get on. Sighing heavily, I climb on and grab the edges of the seat for dear life. This makes Beth chuckle. _Why does she think it's funny that I'm scared of these things?_

After a spell, the Vertibird lands a few blocks from Goodneighbor. Beth thanks the lancer and heads toward the town, only to do a one-eighty when it's out of sight. "Um?" I point toward the town of outcasts with a quizzical look.

"Nope." She pulls a holotape from her pocket. "Deacon." I finally catch on and nod. "Can't tell a Brotherhood member that I'm actually meeting with a Railroad member. That'd just be insane." She continues her path. I fall into step beside her as we walk toward Old North Church.

* * *

"Someone pinch me!" Deacon yells as he sees us enter the Railroad HQ. "I must be dreaming right now!" He runs up to us, giving me a quick handshake then envelopes Beth in a bear hug. "Look at you. You made it!"

"Barely," she admits with a huff. "Wasn't too sure there for a while." She pulls the holotape she showed me out of her pocket. Handing it to him, "There's all of their dirty laundry. Have fun making sense of it."

"Oh, that's not my job," Deacon replies. "That would be Tinker Tom's. Hey, Tom!" he yells loudly as he walks across the small room.

"D, you know there ain't no reason to yell down here. I can hear you just fine if you whispered from the tunnel." He grabs the tape out of his hand with agitated force. "What's this?"

Deacon takes it back in the same rough styled manner. "If you'd have waited another two seconds, you'd know." Pointing to the holotape, "This here's a tape with all we need—probably. I hope." He looks to Beth.

"Hey, I did my best," she says with a shrug.

"Now if you're done acting like a wild animal, you can look at it." Deacon hands the tape back to Tom.

Giving him a look of exaggerated annoyance, Tom plugs the tape into his terminal—an old, rounded machine, looking more jerry-rigged than anything.

"This is gonna take a while to decrypt," he says as he scans the rows of letters. "Get back with me in an hour."

"An hour?" Deacon asks. "I thought you were supposed to be the fastest hacker in the Commonwealth, T-bones."

"I am, Deacs. This crap takes time! Unless you think you can do it faster, how about you get outta my face and come back later."

"Ouch." Deacon puts his hand on his chest. "Harsh, Tom. Harsh."

"Oh, shut up. Go busy yourself by digging a hole or something."

Shaking his head, Deacon suggests we follow him back to the escape tunnel where we'd met him before. "He's no fun when he's working." Seeing Beth's cocked eyebrow, he adds, "And no. He's usually not like that. High stress with all this Institute stuff floating around."

Once we're back in the escape tunnel—apparently a normal place for Deacon to chill—he hands us both a Nuka-Cola each from a cooler he seemed to have stashed somewhere. Beth waits until we've all been relaxing for a few minutes before she speaks up.

"I found my son," she says suddenly.

Deacon looks up at her, his eyebrows shooting straight up near his wig's hairline. He seems to be utterly speechless. With a lack of response, she continues.

"He, uh… Well, he's a lot older than I thought." She spins her soda bottle in her hands. She glances up at Deacon, waiting for any kind of reply from him. Still nothing. "He's their leader—the director of the Institute. He has been for a long time."

Finally, he stands, nearly shouting, "Woah, woah, woah! Wait just a minute!" He paces a few feet away and looks back at her. "He's their what?!"

"You heard me," she replies evenly.

"That's…" He seems to be yet again at a loss for words. Calming down a bit, he comes back over and sits down again. "That's messed up."

"Yeah," she takes another drink from her Nuka-Cola. "Still doesn't change anything, though."

"You want something stronger? I think I can spare some bourbon for this right now." As Beth nods, Deacon goes back to his cooler, retrieving a bottle of liquor and three shot glasses. Pouring each of the glasses half full, he hands them to us while shaking his head.

"You wanna know the worst part?" Beth asks after taking her first drink of the alcohol. "He used me. As an experiment. His own mother." She takes another drink, bigger than the first. "He wanted to test a new prototype of the Gen 3 synths. So, he makes it—" She takes a deep breath.

"At first, I thought I found my son. There was this glass encasement—a room—with a little boy in it. About ten years old. It was Shaun, I was positive. I told him I was going to find him a way out. Of course, he didn't recognize me—he's never even seen me. Next thing I know, this old man comes into the room, says a recall code that shuts the boy—my son—down, like a machine.

"He tells me that the boy was just a synth—a prototype they were testing with emotional stimuli. Then… he has the _balls_ to tell me that _he_ is _my_ son. That _he_ is Shaun. A sixty-year-old man, _my_ son… How old I thought he was… plus fifty years.

"He made me believe that the synth was Shaun. And I thought it _was_ him. Do you know how much that messed with me, how much that screwed me up? It still is. How is that moral, humane, to do that to your own mother that's been _grieving_?" She chugs the last half of her bourbon and winces once it's down.

I feel how Deacon looks: shocked and terrified. She never told me any of this. _Why did she leave this out until now?_

I see a couple tears fall silently down her cheeks. "Just…" She's on the edge of crying. "The whole place—they're evil. All of them." She sniffles, trying to keep it together. "They need to burn… For what they've done—for what they do…"

"Not all of them are evil," Deacon says in a small voice. I've never heard him sound so vulnerable without being inebriated. "The synths—they can't help it—"

"Or can they?" Beth interrupts. She looks him dead in the eyes, past the ever present shades. "From what I see, they're the ones doing all the dirty work. If they haven't made it out yet, why? Is it because they haven't had the chance, or is it because they're in cahoots? They're happy there?"

"You have to make the call yourself," Deacon responds, a bit of ire in his voice. "From what I _know_ , they can't help their situation—they're not happy there. They're just too scared to make a move. Do you know what happens to synths that get caught?

"I know what I'm saying probably won't persuade you, or even dissuade you—from the sounds of things. But you have to save as many as you can. I completely agree with the whole 'down with the Institute' thing, but save the innocents, the synths. They didn't ask for this."

"…I'll think about it…"

"That's all I ask." He slams the rest of his drink and stands. "I have some… stuff. I'll catch you two later."

Beth's eyes follow Deacon as he makes his way out of the tunnel. Once he's gone, "I hope he doesn't get in the way. War with the Institute is bad enough—I don't want one with the Railroad also. …Not Deacon, too…"

* * *

As we're walking back to the airport to get the boat and head home, I can't help but notice Beth acting strange. She'd made a complete one-eighty from this morning—she went from happy, at least to me, to a major downer. Everything that's come out of her mouth is either small talk, or just negative in general. It's not until we're home that I work up the courage to ask her.

"Beth?"

"Hm?" She looks up from reading the last day's paper—the newspaper from October 23, 2077. No telling how many times she's both scanned over and deeply read those articles. As she looks at me, her eyes are all but empty, her normally smiling lips are drooped downward.

"What can I do?"

Her brows sag as she shakes her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I need to do something. I can't just sit here and watch you… be like this. So tell me what I can do to change it." I sit forward in my seat, toward her. She just sighs and leans her head against the back of her chair, shaking her head again—this time in defeat. "I hate this." I stand, even though I don't plan on doing anything, sitting isn't helping my anxiety at all.

"There's nothing we _can_ do," she tells me, her tone solemn. "It just is the way it is. There's nothing we can do—nothing _I_ can do—to change what happened in the past. The only thing that can help, is to accept it. It's just taking me a while. And I know it's not fun, for me to feel like this, or for you to see me like this. But it just needs to happen, and it unfortunately takes time—and too much of it.

"Maybe, you can get away. Go somewhere—do something. That way you won't have to be _here_ —"

"I'm not going anywhere," I say stubbornly, gaining a hard gaze. Thinking for a minute, I continue, "Sure. There's plenty I could do. I mean, I could go to Sanctuary and check in on them. I could go back to Goodneighbor, take a vacation of sorts—maybe get baked with Hancock. I could even go visit Duncan—maybe bring him back here with us finally. I know we discussed both of us going, but it's just a thought." I sit back down.

"Regardless, I know that my place is here. I know firsthand that when you're going through some hard times, the best thing is to have somebody there with you. Even if you don't talk about the thing and just sit in silence. But, having someone around that you _could_ talk with, that understands, that is just _there_ … it helps. So, no—I'm not going anywhere. I'll just deal with it. Just because you're the one going through this, doesn't mean that you're _alone_ in it. I feel your pain. So my leaving wouldn't take me out of the suffering of it all—it'd just make it harder for both of us."

She places her two-century-old paper back on the radio where she likes to keep it and just stares at the floorboards. I can see the shift in her facial features, however small and unnoticeable to most. Her mouth softens from a hard scowl to one of mourning, her eyes lose their blankness and gain an amalgamation of negative emotions—and I swear I see tears lining the rims of them. "It's okay to let it out," I whisper.

Not a second after saying this, she does exactly that. Her face crumples and distorts in agony, her tears are let loose and now run amuck down her face. I silently open my arms, inviting her to let me grieve with her. She comes over, sits on my lap and lays her head on my shoulder, letting herself go. I put my hand on the other side of her head, embracing her.

She spends the next stretch of time allowing herself to act on her pain, until she eventually is so exhausted, she falls asleep right here on my shoulder. I cradle her in my arms and take her upstairs to bed. Laying down next to her, she feels my presence and scoots over to me in her sleep, wrapping her arm around me and sighing contently. I'm just happy to see her calm, even if it is while she sleeps. Just my being here seems to help her sleep better right now. _And she wanted me to leave…_


	23. 22 The Report

22\. The Report

Beth POV

I wake with a start—jolting so hard, I feel like I could fall out of bed once I open my eyes and realize I'm actually _in_ bed. Last I remembered, I was sitting in Robert's lap downstairs…

"Hey." He rubs my arm. When I look at him, I see his small grin and instantly feel better. "Just a dream," he assures.

Thinking about what I woke up from, I say, "Kind of a dream."

He nods knowingly. "Kind of a dream."

I sit up on the edge of the bed. Shaking my head, "I wonder when these will go away…" I look at the time on my Pip-Boy. "Well, might as well start my day. You can go back to sleep now, babe." As I'm standing up, I feel him getting up also.

"Nah. Won't be able to sleep." He pulls his pants on and comes over to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Any plans today?"

"Actually… that dream made me want to go back to the Institute. I _did_ tell Maxson that I had plans of going back soon anyway."

At the end of my first sentence, his face shifts from curiosity to apprehension. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, no. But I do need to go back. And who's to say: maybe when I go back, it'll help me move on faster. Worth a shot."

"I need to go with you then." Determination fills his face.

"Can't happen. They only gave _me_ a chip. I mean, I know where it's at, but it can't be easy to get to."

One of his brows go up. "Where is it?"

"Under the CIT ruins. It's pretty far underground from what I hear. I don't even think they have a way into it other than teleportation." I raise my Pip-Boy, looking at the map, and show him where it is I'm talking. "See? Right there. I'm gonna be under there… somewhere.

"I can get there directly from here, but if you want to go as far to it as _you_ can, I suppose we can just go to the ruins themselves." He nods with a serious expression, showing he likes this idea. "It doesn't make much of a difference, but if it makes you feel better…"

* * *

Ultimately, we decide to go ahead and go right up to the ruins via the Charles River. Robert's nervous the whole time, and trying his best to get me to stay with things like, _You know how well it went last time,_ and, _What if the teleporting process doesn't go as smoothly this time around?_ But, he should know by now that once I make up my mind on something, there's no turning back. He accepts it once we reach the ruins, his face clearly unhappy about my decision, but knowing he's unable to change it.

"Okay, here we are. I only plan on being gone for an hour—a few hours at most." I look at his worried face from my task of slinging a bag over my shoulder. "It'll be okay. They do this all the time. The teleporter Ingram made only burned up because it was her first time making one—she didn't know what she was doing, really. Nobody's died using the Institute's teleporters—that I know of."

"Cause that makes me feel better," Robert mutters, his eyes averted from me.

Grabbing his head, I put my face in his. Now he looks at me. "I will. Be back. And when I am, we'll go on a vacation. I promise. I mean, we both could use one." I lean up the last inch and kiss him. "See you soon." I press the button and disappear in a flash.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Waiting For A Girl Like You_ by Foreigner

Briefly, I feel heat, along with a blinding flash, and she's gone. _She said just a few hours at most. She'll be fine._ Looking around the small cabin of the boat, I see nothing but nothing. _Should have brought something to do—_

There's another flash, and I see Beth standing right in front of me again. She reaches into her bag and hands me an item. "I thought you'd be bored. I just forgot to give this to you before I left." I look down to see my favourite collection of Poe poems and short stories. Looking back up at her, she smirks. "Told you I'd be fine." She reaches to her Pip-Boy and disappears again.

With my book in hand, and shock probably evident on my face, I recollect myself and sit down in the cabin just before I start to hear a Vertibird coming in my direction. It lands a bit up the road and a few suits of power armour come toward me after getting off. Realizing they're Brotherhood, I stand and move out of the cabin to show I have no ill intent. One of the frames takes off their helmet and I see Danse's face. He waves at the other two suits flanking him, and although I can't make out what he says to them, I'd guess it's something to do with how I'm a friendly.

Once they're standing on the dirt a dozen or so feet from me on the boat, he looks around, asking, "Where's Beth?"

"In the lion's den," I respond pointing downward, to which he raises his eyebrows.

"For how long?" As he asks, the other two soldiers at his sides are scanning the landscape, looking for threats.

"She said no more than a few hours. Did you guys come out here for a specific reason, or just out for a cruise?"

He continues to look at me, his face showing an exaggerated amount of boredom at my joke. Answering me, he says, "One of the Lancers saw your boat. With it normally not being here—as our members routinely survey the land—they thought it odd, and sent a small team out to investigate. So, here we are.

"She's going to be gone for a few hours you say?"

"Maybe. Depends on how long whatever she's doing takes." He looks at me for a moment, then looks to his subordinates.

"Take the Vertibird back to the Prydwen and report a false positive of danger near CIT. I will be staying here to await the return of our Knight."

One of the suits isn't pleased with this. "But sir—"

"Jennings: I will do as I see fit. That is all." Dejectedly, the two suits turn and return to the Vertibird. Once it's airborne, he looks to me. "Do you mind if I wait with you?" As I shake my head, he boards the boat.

What he does next surprises me. He activates the eject mechanism, and climbs out of his power armour. I've never seen him out of it, and at times, wondered if he even had a body under all that metal. After setting down his helmet next to the frame, he sees my gaping face. Chuckling, "You've probably wondered if I was even a man under this thing, huh?" I nod a bit sheepishly. Chuckling again, he says, "I prefer to wear it at all times possible. Without it, I hate to say, I feel a bit vulnerable. With it however, I feel stronger, and better prepared for any situation at hand."

After a few seconds, I gesture to the cabin. "Could take a while. Might as well make yourself comfortable." I walk into the cabin myself, and am surprised to actually hear him follow me. Once we're both seated, I crack open my book of Poe, not sure what to do with the unintended company. After a few minutes of _The Tell-Tale Heart_ —one of my favorites—he startles me by clearing his throat.

"So…" I look up at him. "I see you're reading Poe." I nod sarcastically. _Well, the spine doesn't say Dickens, does it?_ "I've read little of his works. Never been a real fan of literature myself. I envy those who have the time and patience for reading—at times, I wish I had more incentive on my downtime." I nod again and continue the short story. Yet again being interrupting as he asks, "Is Beth a reader as well?" I give up on making progress of the story and close it.

"Yes. She's actually the one that got me reading. I mean, I read a bit when I was younger, but nothing compared to now. You should see her collection we moved from Diamond City to Spectacle Island—and it's only growing. I may have a little to do with it, but nothing like her. She picks up ten times as many books as I do."

He chuckles and grins. "I would like to see her assortment. I know enough about books to know that a person's collection—and especially favourites—says a lot about them."

"Well, maybe on one of your visits, she'll let you see her library."

We sit in silence—awkward silence at that—for a minute before he randomly asks, "How did you two meet?" Gaining an almost peeved look from me, he amends, "Well, I met both of you at the same time. I'm just curious as to how someone like you and someone like her got together." Getting an even more sardonic look, he adds, "I didn't mean to offend."

Having feigned my irritation, I wave it off, and answer the best I can. "I'm not real sure. I actually spend a lot of time wondering the same thing…

"Uh… We met in Goodneighbor—sometime in November. I was trying to lose a couple thorns in my side that I had worked with in the past, when I see a head peek around the corner and disappear just as quickly. I managed to get her in the room after the two idiots left me alone. I told her what was true: that I was a gun for hire—I'd watch her back if the price was right—but no haggling. She didn't have enough caps, so she left. She was so wary, so fearful of _everything_ —even me—that I couldn't believe she hadn't been raped or murdered yet. She was pretty fresh out of the vault then—"

"Wait," Danse cuts in, seeming shocked. "Are you trying to tell me that Beth was shy back then?"

"I'm not _trying_ to tell you—I just did," I laugh. He can't seem to believe it.

"Beth? This big around yet can take down an army if she saw fit? That is pretty much waging a war with the 'Boogeyman of the Commonwealth?'" I nod, amused at his flabbergasted expression. "Wow. What made her change? She's nothing like that now…"

"Hold on, I'm getting there. You cut me off, so chill. As I was saying:

"She didn't have the money, so she left. It was about a month later—like, exactly a month—and she came back. Instead of peeking around the corner, taking her time to come in, she just waltzes in the place like she owns it. She _literally_ threw me the money I was asking for and hired me on as a gun right away, no questions asked.

"I could obviously tell a huge difference. So, I asked her what happened to make such a radical change. She didn't want to tell me, but she eventually said more or less, that people like her get killed easily. That she had to find her son, and she couldn't afford to die yet—and that's why she hired me. The more eyes, ears, and weapons to protect her, the better.

"We traveled for a while, and… it just happened. We fell for each other. Life has been different ever since then. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Danse smiles at me. "This wasteland proves difficult to navigate alone. You two are lucky to have each other. And the more I see you together, the more I realize it's true."

I grin back at him. "I'm actually the lucky one. Like you said: how did someone like me make it with someone like her? Pure luck, that's how. That makes twice for me now. I'm just hoping it goes better this time around…

"That's why I'm so careful with Beth. I can't lose her, too. I mean, I know she's capable… but that doesn't make me any less scared of losing her. At least I feel like I'm more prepared to protect her than I was with my first wife."

"I didn't know that you and Beth were married," Danse says, his face a bit shocked.

"We're not…" I look down at my hands. "Not yet anyway. I haven't asked her, but… I'd do anything for her to say yes. I haven't found a good time yet with all this Institute shi—er, crap… going on.

"I'm scared she'll say no… Because, if I'm honest, I don't deserve her. It'd be just like fate to say 'screw you.' That's what I'm used to now—being screwed over. So, I've been expecting it to happen again, and really dreading it… Maybe that's part of the reason I've been putting it off. I just want to enjoy this as long as I can before I get… flipped onto my ear…"

"Listen, MacCready. If I know anything, it's that you love her more than your own life. I can see it—a lot of people can, if they're not completely blind or stupid to it. And I'd say it's pretty safe to say that Beth feels the same way about you. So, there's nothing to worry about.

"Matter of fact, I think I can help you out. I found something a little while back. …Tell you what. Come meet me in my quarters on ship soon. Just make sure you're alone—you'll figure out something to tell her, right?"

A little confused, I decide to trust him as Beth does and nod. "Yeah, I'll make something up."

"Great." Danse is grinning from ear to ear. _What is he planning?_

* * *

Beth comes back when we least expect it, and from the look on her face, she wasn't expecting my company either.

"Um," she says once the flash is completely gone. Looking at Danse, sitting on the opposite wall to me, she can't help her eyebrows from shooting up and her jaw from going slack. "You're… not in…"

"Yeah. Time for a break," he replies with a snicker. As he stands, he asks, "Anything new from down under?"

Still shell shocked from the odd sight, she takes a moment to respond. "Uh… Yeah, actually. Dr. Li is on board with coming back to the Brotherhood. She said she should be at the airport within a couple days," she tells Danse.

"Excellent." He beams.

"Yeah… I did find something else out while I was there. I'm not sure what to make of it, though…"

I stand and close the few feet between us. "What is it?"

"…Shaun is dying. He has some kind of cancer, and they can't get rid of it. They don't expect him to last much longer…" Both Danse and I are shocked speechless. "I _want_ to care—I want to care _a lot_. But for some reason, I can't. I almost feel like he deserves it?" She looks up at me with confused eyes. "Does that make me a bad person—a bad mother?"

I hug her to me, whispering, "No, it doesn't. Just look at the positive—it's something you do best." She hugs me back, nodding, accepting it as it is.

"Silver lining," she mutters. "At least I may not have to kill him myself now. I wasn't really looking forward to that, regardless of my near-hatred for him."

"See, there it is," Danse cuts in. "Your positivity is something to covet, Beth." He turns to me. "Since I told my squad to return themselves, would you mind giving me a lift to the airport on your way back?"

"Not at all." I look to Beth. "Ready to go home?"

"Hell. Yes."

* * *

Beth POV

Once we dropped Danse off at the airport and made it back home, I could finally tell Robert the rest of what happened.

"Guess what Father did?" I refuse to call him Shaun, the name I gave my _son_ , not this monster.

"What did Father do?" he asks as he moves around the kitchen. He thought he'd try to make dinner tonight, and to my surprise, is not doing too bad.

"He reprogrammed Shaun—the synth boy. Instead of wondering who I am now, he calls me Mom—acts like _he's_ actually my child. It's like he understands who Father is, but doesn't make the connection that I'm _his_ mom. Guess what he told me when I saw him today."

"Uh, I don't know." He throws the tatos in with the radstag roast and places the pan in the oven.

"He apologized for his dad's death. _He apologized for Nate's death._ " I shake my head. "He not only thinks that Nate is his father, but he feels it was somehow _his_ fault that he died.

"Then, he said if he ever had the chance, he'd want to see his grave, so he could remember it—remember _him_. He sounded so hopeful when he talked about the surface—not like the rest of those twats down there that think the Commonwealth is full of evil. If only they knew what is considered evil around _here_ … Anyway, he legitimately sounded like he wanted to live up here instead. Crazy kid."

I had gotten so wrapped up in my retelling that I hadn't noticed Robert just leaning against the counter across from me. A small smile on his face, he says, "Seems to me that you like this kid."

"A little weirded out by him, sure, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like him _some_." I can't help my own small grin. "I don't know how they got it so right, but he reminds me of what I pictured Shaun to be like at ten. Some of my wits and a _whole_ lot of his dad's charm."

"Think you could sneak him out next time you go back?" he teases.

"Don't think so," I chuckle.

* * *

After we eat dinner—and I give Robert just all of the compliments on his roast—we hit the sack, ready for the day to be over with. It isn't until I wake up in the middle of the night dying of thirst that I notice he's not on his side of the bed. Forgetting my quest for water, I go through the house looking for him. Coming up empty, I decide to pull on my boots and the jacket to my drifter outfit I'd been wearing a lot recently—this is all I put on, and considering we'd both taken up the habit of sleeping in our underclothes, I feel a bit nippy without it. Searching the island proves rather useless, as I find the rest of our land to be empty as well. As I get even more nervous, I try my best to calm down, to no avail.

 _His clothes are gone, his gun is gone, he's gone. Where could he be this time of night?_ I check the boathouse—finally—and see that the boat is gone also. _The hell?_ I sit down against the wall and decide to wait. _He has to come back at some point, right?_

I sit here and wait for what seems like hours. Finally, I allow myself to close my eyes. _Just to rest them…_ But before I know it, I'm passed out cold—literally. It has to be around forty degrees Fahrenheit right now. After a little while, I have a dream I'm hearing a boat coming closer to me. Once it shuts off, I hear my name being called, then I'm being shaken lightly. I open my eyes to realize it's more than a dream.

Robert is crouched down in front of me, his face more than concerned. "Beth, what're you doing in the boathouse?" He feels my arms and legs. "You're freezing. How long have you been out here?" He takes his duster off and lays it on top of me before picking me up, bridal style. He heads to the house as I shiver in his arms.

"I d-don't know. Saw you w-weren't h-here. P-panicked." I lean into him more, relishing in his warmth. He continues to walk into the house and up the stairs, only stopping to place me on the bed and climb in himself. I gratefully grab at the blanket he pulls up to my shoulders, still staying close to warm me up faster.

After I stop shivering and am able to talk without the stutters, I ask, "Where were you?"

He looks at me with round eyes, as if I'd pulled him from a deep train of thought. "Oh, um… Danse needed help writing up a report from earlier. He thought it'd be a good idea if he told Maxson about Father's… condition, and Li's return."

Something seems a bit off about his response. Like he's tried hard to come up with an idea if I asked where he went—like he _had_ an idea beforehand, at the ready, just in case. "Really?" I ask, one eyebrow raised. "Danse needed help?"

"Don't believe me, ask him yourself next time you see him. And that may be soon. Sounded like he wants to see your book collection, so he may be back here before you know it." He chuckles. Still, something is off about his response. _Semi-detailed backstory, confidence in the aid of a story "participant," change of subject with the addition of a known distraction and/or proof of nervousness. He always knows that I love to hear him laugh._ I can't help but to go through the steps a person takes when lying to assure the victim that their lies are actual truth.

Despite my years of training, so to say, I try my best to ignore my instinct and believe him. _If he wanted me to know, he'd tell me. What could be so bad about it anyway?_ "Oh, okay," I chuckle along with him to try and show I hadn't just put his "performance" on a slab and dissected it with my precision of knowledge and experience of liars. He seems to believe it and, even though his tension was minimal to begin with, he instantly relaxes. _Must've been important, whatever it was._ He stands and takes the rest of his clothes off—save his boxers—and climbs back in, scooting back in close with me.

"Well, I hope the report ended up okay, since _you_ had to help him," I tease.

"Oh," he says, feigning agitation. Dropping it, "The report went just fine. He did most of the work, actually. I only helped a little. In my opinion, he _really_ outdid himself this time." His smile is genuine, despite his indifference toward the Brotherhood most of the time. _I'm just looking too much into it. That's one of the things I do best. Chill out, Beth!_ I tell myself.

"Well, that's cool."

"Yeah, it is. Now, I can tell you're tired, and I know I'm pretty bushed myself. So, how about we get some sleep?"

I kick off my boots and shed myself of both my jacket _and_ his duster without having to get up. It was pretty impressive actually. "Sounds good. Good night, baby."

He kisses my forehead. "Good night, love."

A few minutes after his chainsaw impersonation ensues, my mind is still wondering about it. _What_ actually _happened?_

* * *

 _A/N: If only Danse could be instructed to leave his PA without any mods... *sigh*_


	24. 23 Bliss to Sick

23\. Bliss to Sick

MacCready POV

 _West Coast_ by Lana Del Rey

There's a knock at the door. "What do the neighbours want now?" Beth asks, still half asleep as she rolls away from me, disturbed from the quick rap on our door. I've been sitting up in bed for a while, writing some random ideas down.

I laugh at her gently before getting up and putting some pants on to answer it. Not like I didn't hear the giant aircraft land on the island in the first place—I was just too engrossed in my writing to really think about it.

Once I answer, Danse greets me. "Good morning. Hope I didn't wake you?"

"Nah, I've been awake for a while. Can't say the same about Beth."

"What about me?" she asks as she comes down the stairs, wrapped in my duster.

"I was just saying how you were asleep, but nevermind on that." I give her a quick kiss as she stands next to me, peering up at Danse.

"What are you doing here?" she asks him.

"Ingram sent me on account of Dr. Li. She wants me to tell you that she's already arrived and is meant to start working on our project soon."

"Project? What project?" Her brows furrow.

Danse continues, "I don't think I'm at liberty to talk about it. Besides, I think Ingram was really wanting to show you herself.

"Anyway… Dr. Li is going to be working on it with her for the unseeable future. Possibly around a month, depending on various matters. So, if you want to, you can take this time to explore or travel—use the time as you see fit. We just thought we'd let you know."

"Well, that was nice," Beth smiles at him. "Thanks for telling us." Her face looks like she remembered something. "Oh! How'd the report go that you wrote last night?"

At first he looks confused, then sees me nodding my head slowly, my way of trying to tell him to play along. He sees my rounded eyes and loses the confusion. "The report went well. I was happy to have MacCready as an extra set of eyes and ideas." He looks to me. "Thanks again."

"No problem," I drawl, hopefully making it sound like a natural response. And as I glance over at Beth, she seems to have bought the whole thing. _Phew. Thanks for saving it,_ I think toward him.

Danse looks to our right, into the room of all randomly assorted things. "Is that the library?"

"It serves as more than that, but yeah. Robert said you'd probably want to see it soon, but I wasn't thinking this soon." She chuckles. "You can come in and look around if you want. I don't think you've been in our house yet, have you?"

"I have not," Danse confirms, releasing the eject sequence to his suit.

For the next hour or so, Beth is busy showing her comrade in arms around our living space. She leaves the "library" for last, and explains further what the room is used for.

"It's kind of a room full of the Orders," he comments after she explains the room's contents. At her confused expression, he adds, "The Order of the Quill," as he points to the desk and shelves of books. "The Order of the Shield," he points to the cabinets with clothing and armour. "And the Order of the Sword," he points to the cabinets with a diverse collection of weapons. "Very impressive to be running a personal amalgamation of the scribes' jobs—especially for just two people," he laughs.

"Gotta do what you gotta do," she responds with an easy smile—the one I love so much.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you around," Danse says as he makes his way to the door. "I should be getting back—I hadn't planned on staying this long to begin with."

"Well, I'm glad you did, Danse," her smile beams on. "Be safe out there."

"I'll try, thank you. Enjoy your month off, so to say."

"I will," she looks up to me at her side. " _Definitely_ will." Her smile turns a bit impish.

"Right." He seemed to have noticed her devilish change in expression and is probably thinking it means the same thing I am. He gets back in his power armour and goes to leave. "See you."

As soon as she sees the Vertibird take off, she hooks her finger in my belt loop and starts to drag me toward the stairs. "Definitely will," she repeats, her mischievous grin resuming where it left off.

More than guessing where she's leading me, I stop and remove her hand from my pants. She looks like she doesn't understand until I put my hands on her shoulders and say, "You led last time. My turn." Her grin reappears.

Careful as to not put any more rips in my duster, I slide it off her shoulders and cast it to the side. Within seconds, she jumps on me, wrapping her legs around my waist and starts drowning me with kisses. Taken aback by her sudden action, I stumble backwards a little, but catch myself on the wall. Instead of being scared, she throws her head back in carefree giggles. Taking advantage of this, I envelope her neck in kisses of my own, leaving marks behind as I spin and pin her back against the wall that caught me. She tilts her head back even further, knocking it on the wall in the process, as she grabs the back of my neck hungrily, a small whimper escaping her lips. Taking this as a cue, I set her on her feet as we both start shedding what little amount of clothing we have on—leaving a trail of the few garments as we head upstairs to our goal: the bed. _If we even make it there,_ I manage to incoherently think.

* * *

"That… was amazing."

We had surprisingly made it to the bed in time before we went absolute animal on each other. We now lay here, reeling for breath on our backs, our hands intertwined.

"You're telling me," she says, her breath as ragged as my own. She turns her head toward me. "Remind me to keep an eye out at police stations." She giggles.

"For what? …Oh." I can't help a grin, to which she looks away, madly blushing red. "Into that now, huh?"

She shrugs a shoulder. "Maybe."

I laugh and reach over to the nightstand. "Aw, man. It's been so long since I've had a cigarette like this." Pulling the pack out, I silently offer one to her. She shakes her head as she moves onto my chest. "No? Okay." I pull one out for myself and light it up, taking a nice, long drag, savouring the flavour, the feel. "Best time to smoke," I say around it.

She looks up at me from her resting place and stares at the cigarette hanging from my mouth. She plucks it from my lips and slowly places it between her own, tentatively taking a puff. Almost immediately, she starts coughing and hands it back to me. Laughing, I flick the ash into the tray and put it back between my lips. "Never smoked before?" I ask her.

"No, I have," she says, still coughing lightly. "I just decided to quit when I conceived with Shaun."

"Ah." I take another drag and flick ash into the tray again.

We lay silently for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence and the now fading feeling of ecstasy. I just stub out my cigarette when she asks suddenly, "Wanna go somewhere?"

"Where to?" I return.

"Well recently, I've been thinking about that vault we came across a while back—the one near Diamond City? I'd still like to explore it, see if it's abandoned."

"You think you'll be okay in there with it being a vault and all?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, we _actually_ went into 111, and I was fine."

I think about it for a moment, but know if she wants to go, she's gonna find a way somehow. _Might as well accept she wants to do it and be with her._ "Okay. When?"

"We can go after we eat. You hungry?"

"When am I not?" I ask with a chuckle.

"True," she chuckles herself.

* * *

After we got fully dressed and had breakfast, we prepared ourselves for scavving with the satchels we take when remembered. We "parked" the boat near the CIT ruins like yesterday and made the short-enough trek to the vault. We found out that it actually wasn't abandoned—to Beth's surprise—and people have been living there ever since the War, trading with outsiders when necessary.

The place seemed like it had vault-style folk in it, until we ran into a guy named Bobby—the kid was strung out on Jet, despite his being at work. He reminded me of a Raider, always on some kind of chem.

After a while, we found Bobby in the clinic, saying he knew a place that could help one of the patients—a young boy, sick with something strange. Beth wanted to help, so we followed Bobby to a secret part of the vault, where mole rats were running rampant through the halls, infected with some kind of disease. We ultimately found a cure—along with a Miss Nanny with what Beth said was a French accent. Taking said cure to the doctor, he hastily injected it into the boy, Austin, who woke up from his coma immediately. Although he needed to stay for observation, he said he felt one hundred percent better.

The clinic doc—Dr. Forsythe—then turns to Beth and starts asking questions.

* * *

He starts with, "How many of these cures did you find?"

"Just the one," she responds.

"Just one?" He looks down and sighs. "Hopefully you eradicated all the infected mole rats?"

"We did."

I speak up. "But not before she got bit herself." He looks over at me with a concerned expression. I step forward and take Beth's left glove off, showing where a mole rat had bitten through, leaving no more than a small graze from its teeth.

The doctor balks. "You said there was only one cure…" He looks toward Austin, now sitting on the edge of his bed, perfectly fine compared to a few minutes ago. Looking back to us, "He was on the verge of death. I don't know how to treat you…"

Beth seems to just wave it off. "I'll be fine, doc. Always am." She turns to leave the clinic. "See you around."

Following after her, I whisper, "But what if you're not gonna be okay?"

"We'll get Curie to make another cure. Like a Miss Nanny can just forget something like that." She leads us to the depot.

"You're trusting a robot?"

"Yeah, I am. She may be a robot, but she's also a scientist." Walking up to the counter, she greets, "Hi. We're new here. Got any forty-five or five fifty-six ammo?"

"Uh, yeah." The woman bends down and picks up a couple boxes of ammo and sets them on the counter. "That's all I have right now."

"Better than nothing." Beth gets out the right amount caps and takes the bullets. "Thanks." As we leave, she continues. "I mean, I am an adult—Austin is just a kid. I imagine I would have a better immune system than him. If any symptoms _do_ set in, I'm sure it'll be not only a while from now, but also small scale in comparison."

A few minutes later, as we head down the stairs, she starts looking around. "What are you looking for?"

"The lavatory." She spots a door and runs to it. Although I'm confused I follow, and am just in time to hear her retching on the other side of it. I try to open it, but it's locked.

"Beth," I knock on it, "let me in." I hear a click and it opens, showing Beth on the floor in front of the toilet, her glasses on the counter and holding her hair back. I walk in and close the door behind me. Taking place of her hands, I hold her hair and ask, "You okay?"

She stands and flushes. "Fine. Just got sick suddenly."

I feel her forehead as she wipes her mouth with a towel. "You feel pretty warm. Might have a fever. We should go to the clinic."

"I'm okay," she reassures. "Probably just the food I ate at the diner earlier. Tasted a bit off."

"Tasted fine to me," I counter. "It's probably whatever you got from that mole rat."

"Yeah, about that. There was no need for you to go blab to the doctor about it. I'll be fine—there wasn't a reason to bring it up." She stands and goes to leave the bathroom, only to sway and nearly hit her head on the wall. Before she can, I grab her arm to keep her from falling.

"You're fine, huh?" I put my arm around her back and start heading toward the elevator—to the secret part of the vault where Curie is. "I'm taking you to that robot, and there's nothing you can do to stop me." For once, she doesn't argue.

* * *

Once we reach Curie, she sounds surprised at seeing Beth like this. "Is she okay, Monsieur?"

"No, she's not." I'm nearly dragging her by now. "We need another cure. She got bit while we were down here."

"I only had the one." One of the Miss Nanny's optical lenses focuses in on Beth. "I need more ingredients for the cure to make it."

I set Beth—who is almost unconscious—down on one of the Vault-Tec office chairs. "What do you need? I'll go get the stuff."

"Are you sure, Monsieur?"

"We don't have time. Just make a list." I look over at Beth as the robot turns to a pad of paper and a pen and writes down a number of items.

Giving it to me, she says, "Your best chance to find those are at hospitals, clinics, and research labs. It would be good to have a person with you to—"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go pick someone up real quick. Thanks." I move to Beth who looks at me from under heavy lids. "Hon, you have to stay here. I'm gonna go get Danse or someone to help me find this stuff. I'll be right back." I kiss her on the forehead and leave the vault.


	25. 24 Resolution

_A/N: The chaotic writing style was intended._

* * *

24\. Resolution

Beth POV

 _See You Again_ by Elle King

Robert and Curie are talking, but it's hard to focus on what they're saying.

"—do you need? I'll go get the—"

"—best chance to find those are at—"

Robert moves next to me and I look up at him despite my limited consciousness. "Hon, you have to stay here. I'm gonna go get Danse or someone to help me find this stuff. I'll be right back." He kisses my forehead and leaves the room quickly. _No, wait…_

* * *

I feel a prodding. Opening my eyes, I see Curie looking at me with an optical lens. "Madame?" I move my arm from sitting on my leg to the armrest. "Madame, do you need anything?" I think for a moment then shake my head. "Okay. Let me know if you do." She floats away and starts messing with some science equipment, as if prepping for something.

I look around the room, but it seems like it's turned sideways. _I don't remember the room looking like this before…_

* * *

Waking up suddenly, I look around a bit frantically before trying to move and failing. "Do you need something, Madame?" Curie asks. I swallow down the heaving in my gut.

"Bucket," I say simply, still looking around for one. She finds one and brings it to me as I thank her, " _Merci_." Then I vomit into it.

Once I'm finished, she says quietly, "I did not know you knew any French."

With my arms resting on the side of the bucket, I reply, "I know very little." I see a rag not too far from me and wipe my mouth with it. "I couldn't hold a conversation in the language—especially right now." I set the bucket to the side and lay my head back on the chair. I drift within seconds.

* * *

I wake to see Curie typing at the terminal. In a low voice, she says, "If only I had fingers…" She's typing, but with an incredibly slow speed, considering her appendages are metal claws—so to say.

"I can help you," I offer weakly.

"Oh. I did not mean to wake you, Madame."

"You didn't. What are you typing?"

"I am locating the file for the—" She says something, but the word—or words—are garbled in my head. I decide not to ask her to repeat herself.

"I can help," I suggest again.

"Madame, I do not wish to trouble you in a time like this. You are ill."

"I feel fine," I counter. Yet as I say this, the room is spinning to the point where I swear I'm not in a vault, but rather a fun house.

I go out again.

* * *

At first, I don't say anything when I gain consciousness. I just watch Curie as she floats around, continuing to prep some science equipment like she was earlier. As she floats in my direction to grab a flask, she notices my eyes are open. "Madame?"

When I clear my throat with a cough, my gag reflex almost makes me hurl. After settling this, I speak. "So you'd like to have a body?" The noise she emits sounds confused. I explain. "Earlier, when you were at the terminal, I heard you mention fingers. Do you wish you were human?"

Her three "eyes" stand a bit taller, like she perked up at my mentioning of the topic. " _Oui!_ " She floats toward me more, temporarily forgetting her flask pursuit. "I would so love to have a body. It would make my job as a scientist so much easier. It took me over a century to make the cure for the diseases carried by the mole rats. It would have been much sooner, if only I had had access to a body…"

"What if I told you I think I can get you a body somehow?"

"Oh, Madame! I would be ecstatic! Over the moon!" Her movements are jerky, excited.

"I'll try to get it done. Consider it a gift for taking care of me while Robert's gone."

"…If you get better, Madame. You are very ill at the moment—and getting worse as time passes."

"Thanks, Curie." _That's encouraging._

* * *

"—there you go. How soon can it be—"

"—anyday now—"

"I got it!"

I register that Robert is back and talking with Curie. But as it was before he left, they're conversation is hard to follow, and I can only catch bits and pieces of it. It's even difficult to tell their voices apart at times. Especially as I—yet again—lose awareness.

* * *

It feels like hours have passed when I finally come around. I open my eyes to see Robert right next to me. He's pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, his other atop mine on the armrest. He looks tired as hell, as if he's about to pass out himself. I see Curie on my other side, one of her "arms" extended with a Stimpak-looking thing toward me.

As he rubs his eyes with his one hand, Robert asks Curie, "How much longer until she comes around?"

"It will not be long, Monsieur. I think she is awake now."

His head snaps up at her words and he looks at me with an expression mixed with the odd combination of both fear and happiness. "Beth?" I turn my hand over under his, and grip it, however weakly. "Oh, my God!" He stands from the fold up chair he had placed next to me—even knocking it over in the process—and bends down, hugging me around the shoulders, despite the chair back being in his way. He moves back and looks me in the eyes, seeming to measure my health from them. "How do you feel?"

I think for a moment, as my head feels foggy. Finally, I assess the answer to his question and simply nod. He looks immediately relieved—immensely so. Although the sadness is still in his eyes, he cracks a smile.

"I was almost sure I was gonna lose you there for a while." He picks the chair back up and sits down, putting his forehead on my arm, and breathes a sigh of relief. After he brings his head up, he looks to Curie and says, "Thank you. So much."

If robots could blush, I'm sure she would be, as she turns and floats away, leaving us more space.

He looks back to me, his smile still present, as he starts to play with my fingers that are in his hand. "She remade the cure… and saved you from that disease." He turns my hand over and continues to play with it as he stares downward. "I didn't want to leave you, but she needed the stuff to make it, so…"

"How'd you find the ingredients?" I ask, to which he brings his head up quickly.

After a second, he replies, "She gave me a list, and I took it to Danse. I didn't know who else to ask help from.

"The Brotherhood doctor—Cade, or whatever—had most of the things on hand. So, Danse and I just had to pick up a couple of the things from Med-Tec. The doc said that was probably the best place to find them—and thank God he was right."

I chuckle, to which he grins. I say, "Sounds like you and Danse are getting pretty close. Do I need to worry about competition?" He just throws his head back in laughter. If I hadn't nearly just died—from the sound of things—he probably wouldn't have responded so positively like that.

* * *

Robert insists on leaving as soon as possible. Soon as I feel like I can walk, we're outta the vault and headed home.

When we get there and I'm laying down on the bed upstairs—Dr. MacCready's strict orders—I remember what I had talked to Curie about one of the times I was actually conscious. "Hey, babe?"

Robert comes bounding up the stairs from the kitchen—from making his own rendition of vegetable stew. He pokes his head around the corner. "Need something?"

"Not really. Just wanted to tell you that I need to go to Goodneighbor soon, and ask if you wanted to come. See Daisy or something."

He nods. "Sure. Wait, why do you need to go to Goodneighbor?"

"I told Curie I'd check on something, and I need to go to Goodneighbor to do it."

"Okay?" He looks confused, but accepts it regardless as he leaves to continue his stew. _Nice to have a break from cooking every now and again—even if I have to almost die to get it._

* * *

Naturally, when I went to Goodneighbor, Robert didn't let me go alone. _You don't know those people like I do,_ he'd said. _They're animals, and I'm not taking that chance._

We went to Dr. Amari in the Memory Den. Nick had said that she knew about stuff pertaining to synths and just robots in general. She said there was a donor and to bring Curie in about a week. Robert and I went straight to Vault 81 to tell her, to which she was, as she put, "over the moon."

Now the week has passed, and Robert and I stand in the lower part of the Memory Den with Curie.

* * *

"This is so exciting!" Curie says, her accent as prominent as ever.

Dr. Amari looks up at her from her terminal. "You're very lucky this synth is available. Most choose to go ahead with the memory wipes—she just had enough of life altogether. Her caregiver is no longer here, but she gave us full consent to use G5-19's body." She looks back to her terminal. "Well, let's get started. This shouldn't take too long."

Not twenty minutes later, the synth body—now belonging to Curie—moves in the memory lounger. She speaks for the first time with an actual mouth. "I feel… strange. Very strange." The pod opens up and the new Curie steps out.

"Let's test your cognitive functions," Amari says. "What is one of your most recent memories?"

Curie thinks for a moment before replying, "I saved Madame from the mole rat disease in Vault 81. She was very ill. Monsieur helped me quite a bit."

"Very good." Amari looks to me. "She seems to be all there, so to say. It may take a little while for her to get her bearings, so be patient with her. Just keep your eye out for anything negative concerning the data transfer."

"Will do," I respond.

"C'mon, Curie. Come with us to Spectacle Island for now," Robert suggests.

"Whatever you say, Monsieur."

After we've been home for no more than a few minutes, Curie goes off to look around the island. _Her scientific side is definitely dominant._ As she walks away, I see her nearly fall and mutter something about not being used to legs. I can't help a small chuckle.

Robert gets my attention by touching my arm. "Since she's off doing her thing, can we talk?"

"Yeah?"

He looks at her as she bends down to inspect some kind of plant. "She took good care of you when I was gone. Right?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, she's clearly a good caretaker. Plus, she _did_ save your life."

"What are you getting at?" I'm confused at his words.

"What I'm proposing is we move her here, to live on the island with us.

"One, it'd be the ultimate 'thank you' for her saving you. She's nice—a bit odd—but nice enough to live with. And two, what about when we move Duncan here? We can't always be home, and it's probably best if he doesn't go out into the wasteland for a while. She can take care of him when we're gone."

I nod my head, thinking about it. "You _do_ have a point. She _did_ save my life, and she _can_ watch Duncan when needed." I make my decision. "Alright. We can talk to her about it later when she's done doing… that." I glance over to see her smelling a picked gourd blossom. "Yeah. She is odd."

* * *

"Curie?"

"Do you need something, Monsieur?" She curiously looks up from the weed in her hand to Robert's face. For some reason, she'd wondered into our "garden." More like a decent sized space marked off by picket fencing, populated by only a few tato plants and a single mutfruit tree.

"Yeah," he replies. "We'd like to talk with you for a minute."

"Is there something wrong?" She glances to me. "Is Madame okay?"

"Beth is fine," he assures. "It concerns you going back to the vault."

She looks down to the ground, disappointment clear in her features. "Oh."

I speak up for the first time. "Do you want to go back?"

"No. Well, not really. There hasn't been anything to do—anything to research—since I finished developing the cure eighty-three years ago. I find the vault to be simply boring, and I wish to remain in the Commonwealth to further my scientific research.

"I do not know where I will go. I am not sure where danger is and where it is not. Can you tell me a place I can benefit from inhabiting?"

Robert looks to me with the tiniest of grins. "Do you find Spectacle Island a fit for you?"

"Yes, I do. But you have made your home here, and I do not wish to interfere with your living."

"You won't be," I say. "We're offering you a place to live here with us. If you say yes, we'll build you your own house and everything."

Robert continues with my thought. "It's a way of us saying thank you for saving Beth's life. We know you don't like the vault and that you don't wanna go back. If you want to live here, we'd be happy to have you."

I chuckle. "Plus, you can look at the plants here all you want. Seems like you like gardening. You could do that if you wanted. I mean, look at those poor plants. We're hardly here enough to take care of them."

She gets a sparkle in her eye. "You really mean it? I could live here with you and farm like humans do?"

"Absolutely."

She looks so stunned, like she can't believe her own ears. "This is great news!" She drops the weed she'd all but forgotten about. "Yes, I would love to live here!"

"Great," Robert responds. "We'll get materials to build you a house tomorrow." He looks at me. "Might need some more help from the Atom Cats."

"Hey, you never know," I counter, "Danse might help, too."

"True." He looks like that hadn't ran through his mind until I said it.

All this time, Curie has been just standing there, the look of absolute exhilaration in her expression. I smile widely at this, pleased with the outcome. She looks at us suddenly.

"Is there anything else I can do here? What else can I do to contribute?"

Robert looks at me then her. "Well, there was one thing I forgot to bring up."

" _Oiu,_ Monsieur?"

"My son is living in the Capital Wasteland. We're planning on bringing him here to live with us—we already have a room for him built in the house. Whenever Beth and I are away, can you watch him, keep an eye on him?"

"Of course! I love children—they are the future and deserve the best." She smiles like she can't wait to meet him.

Although Robert's smile was happy before, after she says this, his smile grows even bigger and sincerer than ever. "Thank you, Curie. I'm glad we found you."

"Oh, believe me, Monsieur—the feeling is mutual!"

* * *

Although the Atom Cats were unavailable at the time, we did end up getting help from Danse in building Curie her house—which we put on the north end near the wrecked barge so she could have more privacy. Danse was not too thrilled about helping a robot have a lifestyle and all, but ultimately helped us due to his gratitude of her saving my life two weeks prior.

With everyone pitching in—Danse, Robert, myself, and surprisingly, Curie—her house was erected in just a week's time. Impressive in comparison to how long ours took, even though it was much larger and had more people working on it.

A week or so after Curie settled in, Robert and I have the discussion.

* * *

"How surprised do you think he'll be?" I ask.

"Oh, Duncan will be ecstatic," he says as we pack a few changes of clothes, food and water, extra ammo of various sorts, and spare fuel for the boat. He smiles largely as he packs.

"I can't wait to meet him." I realize my voice is really small, and I sound nervous as if I was a schoolgirl again.

"He's going to love you." Robert drops the shirt in his hands and comes over to me as I pack my own. Placing his hands on my shoulders, "He's shy, sure. But once he comes around—and he _will_ —he'll be a whole new kid. One that you'll love so much that you'll feel he's your own. I hope." Now he sounds nervous.

I chuckle. "It'll all work out."

As we finish packing, he suggests, "We should probably get some sleep. DC isn't exactly close, and I don't want to be tired tomorrow. Tired and travel—not a good combo."

I laugh. As we climb into bed, he lays his head on my chest as I play with his hair. "I can't wait," he says, his words slurring slightly from being drowsy. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.


	26. 25 Reunion

_A/N: Quick side note: Kate from DC is actually a carbon copy of my Lone Wanderer from FO3. During that playthrough, she was inspired by Kantata's Kate from "On A Deeply Personal Level." Funny I'd already named my LW Kate before reading their story. Anyway, I'd toyed around with continuing their story before, but it sucks lol_

* * *

25\. Reunion

MacCready POV

 _Wait_ by M83

"How much further?" Beth asks me.

"No idea. I never traveled by boat from Boston to DC." We've been gone for nearly two days now. The sun is setting and we've already talked about turning in for the night. Normally, I'd want us to take turns making sure we don't beach ourselves—however, right now, I just want us both to be rested by the time we make it to Megaton.

And as if on cue, Beth points to a large figure ahead of us, silhouetted in the sunset. "What's that?"

I look at it for a second, before I nearly yell, "Rivet City!"

" _That's_ Rivet City?" She squints and looks at it as if for the first time—which, it sorta is. "I was imagining it to be bigger…"

"Is that not big to you? It's fu—frickin' enormous! You can't be serious."

"I know Nate wasn't in the Navy, but I _have_ seen aircraft carriers nearly twice that size. Now _those_ were enormous."

"Alrighty, then," I say, shaking my head. _How is that not big to her?_

We decided it'd be a good idea to leave the boat near Rivet City, as there are guards almost everywhere and few enemies due to that. We stopped into the marketplace quickly to tell Chief Harkness that the boat isn't anything dangerous—we were just going to be leaving it there for a little while as we journeyed between two of the biggest settlements in the Capital Wasteland.

Although we're both really tired from the travel, finally knowing we're this close perks us up. It would be smart to stay overnight in Rivet City, but we can't keep still long enough to sleep a wink. She laughs as she makes jokes about us acting like we're on "energy drinks," all the while knowing I'm lost as she makes her Pre-War references.

She can't believe it when I tell her that Chief Harkness is a Gen 3 synth. "No, he's not."

"No, really," I try to convince her. "Kate figured it out when one of the Institute jerks came down looking for him. He'd gotten a mind wipe and face change, so he was safe. Kate made sure the dude—Zimmerman, I think she said his name was?—didn't even have the chance to catch on. So, in a way, I guess you could say Kate is considered an ally with the Railroad. As well as the Brotherhood. She still holds rank as Paladin, even though she earned it years ago and rarely sees BOS personnel."

Beth's face expresses shock. "Really? Kate's in the Brotherhood, too?"

"Has been for a decade or so. They helped her father's dream come true: Project Purity. Remember the tidal basin we passed?" She nods. "Kate got that running with the help of the Brotherhood. Almost died in the process. She hasn't had too much to do with them ever since."

Her eyebrows are still raised. "Wow." I chuckle.

Beth can see some of the monuments on the walk to the giant crater of a town, and as much as she wants to see them up close, she's afraid to. "They'll be so much different from the last time I saw them. I could handle Bunker Hill, but seeing more than one… I don't think I could do it."

Once we get far enough away from the city, we start talking about what might happen when we get there.

"He was not even two when Lucy died. It _has_ been four years. I wonder if he remembers her at all… Seemed like he was having a hard enough time when I went to the Commonwealth as it was. Be a shame if he forgot his own mother…" Just thinking about it gets me upset.

"I hope he remembers her, too. …But you know it's a small chance that he does, right?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately."

We're now nearing Grayditch—one of the up and coming settlements. "I never hear you talk about this place," Beth says as we stroll through the town. She looks all around her, taking in the similarities and differences of the towns in the Capital Wasteland versus Commonwealth.

"It's pretty new. Like, under a year old. Houses are being built, brahmin stables are being put together. All the while, the mayor of the place, little eighteen-year-old Bryan Wilks runs the show in his father's memory. He works just as hard as the rest of them to build up the settlement. Kate's proud," I tell her as I point to the kid, who is at the moment _literally pushing_ a brahmin into one of the established pins. "She saved his life ten years ago. Fire ants killed his dad and the rest of the town. They nearly got him. He moved to Rivet City with his aunt for a while, but decided to come back. He thought Grayditch could use a bit of revival."

"One brave kid," she comments, then looks confused. "Wait, how do you know all this since you lived in a cave?"

I chuckle. "Like I said, Kate saved his life. She told me all about it. As for the 'newer' news, like the restoration happening under a year ago—after I left—she told me about it in one of the handful of letters we sent to each other."

"Oh, okay. It's cool you could send letters to keep in touch while you were gone." She continues to absorb the town, now nearing the size of Megaton itself.

She goes silent for a little bit, but once we leave Grayditch, she quietly asks, "What if he doesn't like me?" I know who she means.

I'm baffled at her question. At first I don't say anything, which probably makes her even more nervous than she already sounds. She looks up at me with sad eyes.

"How could he not?" I ask her in just as quiet a voice. "You're amazing, Beth. There's no way he'll _like_ you—he'll _love_ you. No doubt about it." I try to give her an encouraging smile. She grins back and nods a little bit. _Why doesn't she believe me?_

"Well, what about Kate and Butch? What if _they_ don't like me? They're important people in your guys' lives. I'm afraid we won't get along." _So pessimistic. Why so pessimistic?_

I pull on her arm to make her stop. She looks at me with rounded eyes. "Beth. _Everybody_ is going to like you. Ellis… he might be a different story—just don't worry about him too much. But everyone else—Duncan, Kate, Butch—you'll be just as awesome to them as you are to me. So, stop worrying. It's not like you're meeting the in-laws or anything. Just calm down—deep breaths." _Did I just say in-laws? Oh, boy…_ Like I advised, she takes a deep breath. I continue, "I mean, it was you who said that everything will work out alright back at home. So, listen to yourself, Beth. There's nothing to worry about. Period."

* * *

"Welcome to Megaton. Enjoy your stay." _That protectron deputy will never_ not _creep me out._

We walk up to the house and look at each other. Why does it seem like I don't know what to do from here? _Just reach your hand up and knock. That's what you did when you came here the first time._ I raise my hand up and stop. _Am I ready?_

I think of my little boy, just yards from me. How he was so weak when I saw him last, how he was so devastated when I told him I needed to leave. How he looked at me with those hazel eyes he got from Lucy, the sadness so deeply rooted in them, and his lower lip jutted out into, not a pout, but actual anguish. I know he's not that sick boy anymore—thanks to Beth—but I am still somehow… dreading… seeing him. I try to convince myself that he's fine—and for God's sake, what am I waiting for?—but my hand doesn't make a move toward the door. It just stays still. _Am I afraid he'll be mad at me? Or that maybe he's forgotten me, like his mom? What if he wants to stay here in Megaton with them? I couldn't handle that…_

Beth meets my eyes—hers also cast in a bit of fret—but nothing even close to mine. She sees my want to knock, but understands my hesitation also. She makes the call and knocks for me, to which I'm thankful.

I hear someone scurrying around inside the living room, followed by, "Mom! Someone's at the door!" Ellis then runs upstairs as I hear footsteps coming toward us. It opens and I'm faced by an expression of utter bewilderment.

Kate stands on the other side, her mouth shaped into an _O_. After a few seconds, she mutters, "You're here…" She smiles hugely and comes up to me, throwing her arms around me in a vice-tight hug. Suddenly, she almost jumps and says, "Where are my manners? Come in! Please!" She shuffles to the side as Beth and I move into the small living room.

I put my arm around Beth and say, "Kate… This is Beth. Beth—Kate."

Beth steps forward and grips Kate's hands. "I've heard so much about you. Thank you _so_ much for doing this for Robert—for Duncan."

Kate chuckles. "It's nothing he wouldn't do for us, I guarantee it." Beth steps back to me and wraps her arm around my back. She smiles up at me. Kate continues, "I've heard some about you, too." She chuckles again.

"Oh, yeah?" Beth glances between Kate and I to which we both laugh a little.

"He didn't tell you?" she asks her. Beth shakes her head. "Oh. Well then." Kate eyes me with a bit of a dubious expression before she tells her, "He wrote me about you." Beth looks at me, and I can feel a small blush blooming on my face. "When you hired him, he sent me a letter. He told me that he finally got hired by someone, and maybe his new employer could help him with finding Duncan's cure.

"Anyway, he goes on about how beautiful you are, and how much you'd changed in just a month. To me, it sounded like love in the making—and I guess that I was right, seeing you two now—I know how it goes. I still have that letter, if you want to see it sometime."

"I'd love to," Beth responds, looking at me with a small grin, making my cheeks turn all the more pink. _Please. Not that letter. Please, God._

As Kate is about to go to her filing cabinet, Butch walks in the front door, sees Beth and I, and exhibits a similar reaction like Kate had when she saw us. We talk for a bit before I notice a small head poking down from upstairs. Ellis must remember my face, as his mouth turns into an _O_ like both Kate and Butch's had. Kate wiggles her finger at him, signifying to come over. She quietly reintroduces us and asks what Duncan is up to. "He's asleep."

Butch replies, "You can go back to bed, but don't wake him up, okay?" Ellis nods and runs off rather noisily, not getting the memo or just not connecting the whole quiet warning with how loud his tread is.

Kate speaks up, "He's been doing great here, Robert. He's missed you horribly, but he's gotten along with Ellis and the other kids. The adults love him, that's for sure. You raised an amazing son."

This makes me smile. I've spent so many nights awake, worrying about how my boy was mixing in with the rest of the Megaton population. To know that he was not only accepted, but actually loved, makes me regret having to leave just a _little_ bit less.

After a minute, I heavy sigh and mutter, "Well, I guess I've stalled enough…"

Kate smiles sympathetically. "Nervous?"

"Oh, yeah." I chuckle, it's sound proving my point.

"Wait right here. I'll be right back with him." Kate goes up the steps and disappears. Although we're on two separate floors of the house, I can still hear her. "Duncan." Pause. "Duncan? Can you come downstairs with me real quick? The lights are on so keep your eyes closed, okay?" I hear the smallest of noises as he sets his feet down on the floor from his bed. I see Kate slowly guiding him down the steps. Even his legs, which I can see from him wearing shorts, are stronger and meatier than the last time I saw him. _It's been almost a year… So long…_ Kate stops him at the foot of the stairs and lets me look at him for a moment.

He's a little taller now, and his boils are all gone. I can see some scars where they were—some on his arms and legs, others across his bare abdomen. Last I saw, his muscles were starting to deteriorate just the slightest bit—he was so weak, he couldn't play like a normal kid to keep them healthy. Although he was just woken up suddenly, and for no apparent reason, his expression almost seems… happy. _He looks so good._ I'm now finding it hard to hold some tears back. Once I've gotten a look at him, Kate finally says, "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

He rubs his eyes with his little hands and opens them, blinking the sleep out of them. They're slightly unfocused at first but then he sees me and they go into focus in record time. Looking at me with wide eyes, he can't believe what he's seeing—even more so than Kate, Butch, _and_ Ellis combined.

"…Dad?"

I crouch down as he takes a hesitant step toward me, then another, and has built up so much speed by the time he reaches me, that he slams into me, wrapping his arms around as much of my torso as his little arms can manage. I'm already sobbing by the time he starts crying. We just sit here on the floor—having had fallen at the point of impact—holding onto each other and just letting out all the built up emotions from all the time we'd been apart.

Finally.

I have my son back.

* * *

Beth POV

 _Wait_ by M83

When Robert and I get to the door he says belongs to Kate and Butch, he stands in front of it and raises his hand to knock. But he just stands there with his hand in the air—he doesn't make a move. I look at his face. His brows are furrowed and his mouth is almost set in a frown. _He's overthinking it._ His upset expression continues on for a bit more before I manage to make eye contact with him. What I thought I'd seen in his expression before is _definitely_ evident in my eyes. _He's scared._ I'm leery of the whole situation myself, but nothing like him. He's downright terrified. But I know he's been looking forward to this moment—the moment where he is reunited with his _healthy_ son—so I knock on the door for him, to which he looks eminently grateful.

There's movement on the other side of the door and I hear a young boy shout, "Mom! Someone's at the door!" Then there's the sound of the child running up some steps. I chuckle internally. _Everything is always the mom's job._

I now hear someone coming to the door, and when it opens I see a woman of about thirty, which I assume is Kate. She looks at Robert with complete shock, and you can tell she had no idea about our arrival. She mutters, "You're here…" then steps up to him and gives him a massive hug. Suddenly releasing him, she says, "Where are my manners? Come in! Please!" She moves a bit to let us in.

Now standing in what I presume is the living room, Robert puts his arm around me and looks at Kate with a smile. "Kate… This is Beth. Beth—Kate." Listening to the excitement in his voice at our meeting, I know he's thrilled to have me meet the woman that helped him in his most dire hour.

I go up to her and grip her hands in my own. "I've heard so much about you," I tell her, thinking of all the stories Robert has shared with me in the past. "Thank you _so_ much for doing this for Robert—for Duncan."

Her expression of shock from my sudden grip fades and she smiles with a chuckle. "It's nothing he wouldn't do for us, I guarantee it." Being proud of him, I step back next to Robert and wrap my arm around his back and smile up at him. "I've heard some about you, too." She laughs.

"Oh, yeah?" _What has she heard?_ I look between her and Robert as they share a chuckle.

"He didn't tell you?" I shake my head as Kate looks to Robert with a look that says, _Of course he didn't._ "Oh. Well then." She glances back at me and says, "He wrote me about you." I look up at Robert, who I swear is turning red at the mention of it. Kate continues, "When you hired him, he sent me a letter. He told me that he finally got hired by someone, and maybe his new employer could help him with finding Duncan's cure.

"Anyway, he goes on about how beautiful you are, and how much you'd changed in just a month." _He wrote about me that soon? I didn't know he liked me that early on…_ "To me, it sounded like love in the making—and I guess I was right, seeing you two now—I know how it goes." She goes to turn toward a filing cabinet. "I still have that letter, if you want to see it sometime."

"I'd love to." I look up at Robert with a grin, and see his face turning an even darker shade of red.

It's then that a man walks through the front door and cuts the letter conversion short, to Robert's approval, as I hear him breathe a small sigh of relief. The man's just as shocked as Kate was to see him standing here, so I assume that this must be Butch, Kate's husband. He greets him warmly and then I'm introduced to him. Several minutes after this, Robert suddenly looks over to the stairs. Following his gaze, I see a boy around the age of seven. He resembles both Kate and Butch, so I know it can't be Duncan. After Kate prompts him to come closer, we're introduced to him as well. When his mother asks him what Duncan is doing, he responds that he's sleeping. Butch then tells their son, Ellis, to go back to bed, and the boy runs up the steps.

Kate catches my attention by speaking. "He's been doing great here, Robert." I presume she means Duncan. "He's missed you horribly, but he's gotten along with Ellis and the other kids. The adults love him, that's for sure." She smiles cheerfully. "You raised an amazing son." Robert now smiles, with no reservations.

A bit later, he sighs heavily, and says, "Well, I guess I've stalled enough…"

Kate seems to understand, as she asks, "Nervous?"

Robert chuckles, the sound proving the answer he gives. "Oh, yeah."

"Wait right here," Kate says. "I'll be right back with him." She goes up the stairs and I can hear her trying to wake Duncan, but I'm not really listening, as I'm too busy looking at Robert's face—his expression showing his nerves, his wondering thoughts. I'm engrossed in watching him, but as I hear footsteps coming down, I turn my head to it. _This is it…_

Kate walks down with a boy holding her hand, and I don't know what I _was_ expecting, but it wasn't this.

A boy of five years, dressed in sleeping shorts, stands at the foot of the stairs, holding onto Kate's hand, showing his trust in her. He has skin that matches his father's but his hair is more brown—matching the colour Robert described as the colour of Lucy's. He seems a bit small for five years old, but very healthy—as he only sways a little from being tired, rather than being weak from his sickness. I see no evidence from said sickness, other than some scars left behind from the boils he once had. They're pretty small and he's young enough that they should disappear as the years pass. As all this registers, the only thought I have is, _He looks good, happy._ Kate speaks again, saying, "Okay, you can open your eyes now." He rubs the back of his hands over his eyes before opening them. Slightly out of focus at first, but once he catches sight of his father, they snap into alertness and grow to be very wide.

"…Dad?" He can't seem to believe his own eyes, taking small steps toward Robert, as he crouches down to receive his son. Duncan then realizes that this is real and bolts toward his dad, knocking him down as they collide.

Duncan's arms are so small, but he wraps them as far as he can around his dad. Robert is now, not only crying, but _sobbing_ , overjoyed from having his son back in his arms. They sit on the floor, both of them crying from the reunion.

I notice Kate and Butch embracing, happy to see them together again. In the back of my mind, I wonder how many times they had to tell him that his dad will be back, that he loves him, and that's why he had to leave. How many nights they witnessed him cry himself to sleep, knowing his daddy wasn't there to tuck him in…

However, these thoughts are just in the back of my mind, because I'm too busy crying myself. Seeing Robert this happy is something I've never seen before—and I've seen him _extremely_ happy. And to finally see Duncan with my own eyes… It's more than I can handle. _And I thought I couldn't handle something as simple as those stupid monuments…_

* * *

Roughly half an hour has passed since Duncan first came down the stairs. Kate and Butch have moved to the second level, and I've seated myself on the couch, facing the bundle of tears sat on the floor.

Robert's eyes have finally run dry, but he doesn't break his embrace with his son. He looks up at me with eyes full of hope and the smallest yet happiest grin I've ever seen. Duncan is laying on his lap, nearly passed out—from the excitement or being woke up in the middle of the night, I'm not sure. Maybe both.

Nudging him, Robert finally speaks, as he hasn't muttered a single word to Duncan yet—he couldn't through all the emotion. "Duncan?" The boy stirs and drowsily looks up at him, a smile on his face. "I want to introduce you to someone." _Oh shi—shoot, here we go…_ Robert nudges Duncan again, and they both stand. Leading him over to me on the couch, Robert says, "Duncan, this is Beth. She's the one that helped me find your cure. I wouldn't have got it if it wasn't for her." His son looks up at him, then at me. What he does next… I never would have expected it.

He walks over and puts his arms around me. Not shyly, or just to be polite—he actually _hugs_ me in gratitude. Breaking away, he glances up at me. "Thank you." Then he runs back to his dad, nearly hiding behind him.

Robert just laughs. "There's no need to hide, buddy. She doesn't bite." He turns and kneels in front of him. "She's really nice. How about you talk to her?"

Duncan peeks around Robert and looks at me. He decides to trust him, and walks back over to me, however hesitantly. Looking down at the floor, he asks me, "What's your favourite colour?" A simple question, but always a start.

"Either green or pink," I say. "It's used to be blue, but I changed my mind a little while ago." I think of Vault-Tec's colour of choice and internally cringe. "What's yours?"

"I like red. I have for a long time now."

"Red's a nice colour," I tell him with a smile. He looks up and grins, then looks away again. I chuckle at his shyness.

Robert puts his hand on Duncan's shoulder. "You look tired, buddy. How about we all go to sleep now—I know Beth and I are tired from our trip. We can talk more in the morning, okay?"

Duncan looks up at his dad, his neck looking like it could break at any moment from the harsh angle. "Okay, Dad."

I end up taking one of the armchairs and leave the couch to Robert and his son. As I cram myself into the small chair, I look over to them. Duncan is laying lengthwise on top of Robert, his arms wrapped around his father—Robert's hand resting on Duncan's back. They both fell asleep quickly, and even now in their unconscious state, their glee is unmistakable.

Although I would have been far more comfortable in a bed, I couldn't be any more pleased to be here, in this very moment. And even though I couldn't have that happy reunion with my own son, I'm more than elated to see Robert with his finally.

I think back to the conversation I had with him before we left home. _He was right. He's definitely shy—and even though I've only known him for a little while… I_ can _see myself loving him like he's my own…_ I smile as I start to drift off.

* * *

 _A/N: This is seriously one of my favourite chapters. Just thinking about it makes me happy._

 _There's an artwork of what the artist calls "concept design" on both Tumblr and DeviantArt. They'd made a drawing of Duncan, and this is how I'd pictured him all along. They go by both Verena-Senpai and Pancake-Senpai, so there's that._


	27. 26 Arranging

26\. Arranging

MacCready POV

I wake up feeling pressure on my torso and immediately snap my eyes open. Duncan's laying on me, his mouth hanging wide open, a little bit of his drool soaked into my shirt. _I still can't believe it,_ I think with a grin.

For the following stretch of time, I lay here and watch him sleep while petting his head. I don't want to wake him, but how can I not? It's been so long since I've seen him, it'd be impossible to not be touching him somehow.

After a little while, Kate comes down the stairs, yawning. She sees I'm awake and smiles warmly. "Good morning."

I smile back at her. "Good morning."

"Sleep well?" she asks as she fishes around a shelf for some Sugar Bombs.

"Very. It's been a _long_ time since I've slept that good." _All those nights, worrying… I don't have to go through that anymore._

"I was thinking maybe I could show you around Megaton today while you're still here. If that's okay with you?"

"Sure," I reply. "It'd be neat to see where Duncan's been living—be able to meet some people here."

"Great," she grins, abandoning her cereal. "Want some, uh, help with that?" She points to Duncan's sleeping form. I nod with a chuckle as she scoops her arms underneath him, lifting him pretty easily. I squirm out from under him, then she lays him back on the couch, readjusting my duster on him. He wiggles a bit before his mouth opens again, already back to sleep from the small disturbance.

"Alright," she says quietly. "He should be asleep for another hour or two. Let's get going."

* * *

"You… You can't be serious." Kate is utterly shocked.

"Would I lie?"

"You used to all the time," she retorts.

I roll my eyes. "I was a kid. It's different."

She sits down on the edge of the hangover near Craterside Supply. We'd been spending a lot of this morning roaming around Megaton. Since I didn't see much of it other than their house the last couple times I was here, she insisted on showing me every last inch of the place where Duncan had been living for the past year.

"I'm dead serious," I say, sitting next to her.

"So. Let me get this straight." She clears her throat. "Beth is Pre-War. She lived in Boston, saw the bomb fall, made it to a vault with her husband and infant, just to get frozen in cryostasis. She woke up in October, and is now waging a war with the Institute alongside the Brotherhood of Steel." I nod. "Beth?" She points toward the house, where we left her asleep. I nod again, a grin slowly forming on my face. "Wow." She shakes her head. "She _really_ _is_ something." I think of the letter I sent her about Beth, how I'd said she was something else, but didn't elaborate too much.

"Yeah. I wasn't kidding," I laugh.

She seems to not be paying attention, caught up in her own thoughts. After a couple minutes, she turns her whole body toward me. "…Are you happy?" she asks suddenly. Confused, I just nod. "No, really," she says. "I've always known you as this little disgruntled kid. You seemed to never have the want to get close to people, but the one time you did…" She looks down. "I don't want you to be that guy that Fate always hits directly in the face everytime. First with Lucy, then Duncan. I don't want you to have to go through that again. You don't deserve it…"

I face her a bit more head on. "Kate. There's nothing— _nobody_ —that could make me happier than I am right now. You don't understand how it is… I'm not even sure I do." She looks on at me patiently to continue with what I mean.

"It's like… all those times Fate hit me directly in the face, as you put it, it's almost like… I'm being paid back for all those times right now. What are the chances of this happening anyway, huh? Pre-War beauty like her, walking right into my life when I needed her most. We're like a perfect match—and I know, that sounds so cliché, but it's true. It's like magic—we've talked about that before. She's brought it up, so it's not just me.

"I never knew I could fall so head over heels for someone so _quickly_. It's astounding, Kate. And there's nowhere else I wanna be— _need_ to be—than by her side."

Kate looks at me with a small smile. "Okay. I believe you. It's hard to say I know how that goes. Seems like it took a lot of persuasion and time for my meathead of a husband to realize my feelings for him." She laughs. "Okay, maybe not a lot."

I chuckle at her blushing cheeks. "Please. Do tell," I say.

She sighs. "We ended up in the same bed one night when I found him sitting sick in the Muddy Rudder. There was only one bed in my hotel room. But yeah. I kinda woke him up in the morning with a kiss, I guess." Her cheeks deepen in colour. "Let's just say it didn't end there… and we've been together ever since." She giggles.

I gawk at her in a comical, sarcastic way. "Why, Kate!" I push her shoulder. "You dog."

"I know," she nods, her cheeks still a shade of pink. "I thought that myself—like I jumped him as if I was a dog in heat." She laughs again, and I join in with her. With a sly smirk, she adds, "Well, hey. It worked."

* * *

Beth POV

I'm woken up by a small voice. "…Hey." I feel a finger poke my arm. I open my eyes to Duncan practically in my face, making me jump slightly.

"Hey, Duncan." I rub the sleep out of my eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"It's nine-thirty. I usually wake up now." He looks down with a pause before asking, "Do you know where Dad and Kate went?"

I look over to the couch and see Robert's duster crumpled up in a pile. "They didn't tell me, so I'm afraid not. Is something wrong?" I ask him, suddenly a bit worried, knowing his shyness toward me, and his action of waking me up conflicting against that.

He shakes his head. "No. Just wanted to know where Dad is."

Butch comes down the stairs at this time. Having heard Duncan, he says, "Kate wanted to take your dad out and show him around Megaton today. So, that's probably where they went."

The boy looks relieved. "Oh, okay."

Butch says to me, "Ellis is already at school, so it'll just be you two here. I have to go out for a while."

"Okay," I reply. After he leaves, and the door is shut, I notice Duncan is just standing in the middle of the room, looking down as he plays with his hands. "Duncan?" He looks at me without a word. "Are you sure you're okay?" I switch from asking in general to asking him specifically. He shrugs. "Are you nervous because I'm here?" After a moment, he nods. _At least he's truthful._ "You don't have to be," I tell him. "Here." I fidget in my seat. "If I'm making you nervous, how about you tell me what it is, and I can try to help with it."

He thinks for a bit, and shrugs again, as if he can't exactly pin point what it is.

"Is it because you feel like I'm a stranger? That we didn't get to talk very much last night?" He nods slowly. "Okay. Let's start from the beginning, then. We can take turns. I'm Beth."

"I'm Duncan." _Is it working?_

"I live in the Commonwealth."

"I live in the Capital Wasteland. Here in Megaton. I used to live near Arefu." _I think it's working…_

"I've known your dad for a while now. He's told me a lot about you."

He perks up a little, dropping his hands to his sides. "He did?" _It's working!_

"Yeah, he did. I've been looking forward to meeting you for a _long_ time now." He smiles a bit. "I got a good one. What's your favourite toy? You're bound to have at least one."

"I do!" He bounds up the steps so quick, I'm surprised he didn't fall down. Yet again, I'm sure he's had the practice. He comes back with an armful and dumps them onto the couch. Waving me over, he says, "These are my toys!"

I get up slowly, as to not make him any more anxious—although I'd guess his anxiousness left as soon as I mentioned his toys. He rearranges them in neat rows. "These are my favourites!" He points to the first row. "Those are okay," he points to the second row, then the third, "and those were Ellis's. He gave them to me when he got bored of them."

"From your favourites, which ones are the best ones?" I ask.

He picks up a couple toy cars. "Don't tell the others," he whispers, looking at the rest on the first row, "but these are the best ones." He hands them to me.

"Wow," I enthuse. "These _are_ great." I whisper back at him, "I see why they're your favourite." He giggles, and I can't help a smile, seemingly have cracked his shy-shell a little bit.

* * *

MacCready POV

"No, no, no. Takahashi's noodles are way better," I argue.

"The Noodle Stand serves some _killer_ noodles," Kate retorts. "Nobody's can _possibly_ top Jenny's."

"You wanna bet? When you guys come up to Boston—I mean, the Commonwealth—" _Beth has me saying Boston now. Cool,_ I think sarcastically, then continue. "You need to try the Power Noodles at Diamond City. We don't live there anymore, but it'll be worth the trip—not only for you to have them, cause they're awesome, but to _prove you wrong!_ " I laugh. Kate opens the door to her house, and the scene playing out in the living room has my jaw going slack.

Duncan and Beth are on their hands and knees, spinning in circles, making car sounds as they race a couple of his toy cars—and no doubt he's only making car noises because she told him what they used to sound like, as he's never heard a car engine before. All this is incredibly shocking, as Duncan doesn't trust people easily, or get comfortable with strangers quickly.

Beth finally sees me and stops, nearly falling over from spinning for who knows how long. "Oh, hi." She smiles widely.

Duncan notices her halt and looks toward the door. "Dad!" He gets up and dashes toward me, although he nearly falls over as well. Jumping up on me, he gives me a big hug as I mouth to Beth, _What did I miss?_ She mouths back, _A lot,_ and smiles again.

I set my son down and he runs back to her on the floor and sits down, ramming his car into hers while making a loud crash noise. I go up to them and sit on the couch, equally as entertained as I am confused by them. Beth looks up at me, then to Duncan. _She looks so content._ "Should we talk?" she asks me. I know she means to Duncan about our future living arrangements. I nod. Kate figures the same, and goes upstairs to give us more privacy.

"Duncan?" I grab his attention, and he looks up at me immediately, dropping his car onto his lap. "Can we talk for a little bit?"

"Yeah." He gets up and seats himself next to me on the couch. Beth stays sitting on the floor.

I start off easy. "I see you and Beth were having a good time. You like her?"

"Yeah," he looks down to her and grins. "She's cool."

"I'm glad you think so," I tell him. "Have you guys talked much, or have you been playing this whole time?" I laugh and tickle his ribs, making his giggle.

"We talked some earlier."

"About what?"

He looks to Beth for her to fill in this blank. She responds, "He was acting a little nervous, so I asked him what I could do to help him with it. We started talking about his toys, and he just… blossomed from there."

He laughs at her wording. "Blossom."

"I also said that I've known you for a while. I didn't know how to describe it, though," she tells me, while a look of slight panic is set in her eyes.

I'd been thinking about how to break this to him for a while now, so I pick up from there. "Duncan, I want you to understand something, okay?" He nods. "Beth is a great friend of mine. We really care for each other—and we've almost died trying to save each other's lives many times." He looks a little concerned. "But, we're okay. We're here now, because we were there to watch each other's back." I pause for a second, trying to remember how I wanted to phrase the next part. With a deep breath, I continue, "Do you remember Mom?"

He squints his eyes and looks far away. After a few seconds, he shakes his head. "Not really."

"Do you remember me talking about her? How I loved her very much?" He nods, his brows scrunched ever so slightly. With another breath, "I love _Beth_ like that now, since Mom's not here."

He looks down, and although it's hard to see his face, from what I can see, he looks like he's thinking hard. "So…" he starts. "It's like Beth is my new Mommy now?" He looks at me, his eyes round, proud, that he's come up with that conclusion all by himself.

"Yeah," I say, impressed. "It kind of is like she's your new Mommy. …Would that be okay with you?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims. "I really like her a whole lot, Dad! She plays with me and everything. Like how Mommy used to." He smiles down to her.

I look at her myself, the first time in a little bit, and see she has tears pooling at her eyelids. She smiles back at him, and opens her arms. "Can I just… get a hug, Duncan?" He hops down from the couch and sits in her lap, hugging her with his little arms, and being completely enveloped in hers.

Here I thought last night that I couldn't be any happier. I'm glad I was wrong.

* * *

"You'll come visit me, right?" I can hear Duncan ask Kate as she helps him pack his toys upstairs. Butch is downstairs with Beth and I, going through the fridge for some food for our trip back.

"Absolutely, Duncan," Kate replies easily. "I've grown too attached to you—I don't think I _couldn't._ " I can only imagine him smiling.

Beth looks at me. "He doesn't know about his room, does he?"

I grin. "Nope. But he's gonna love it." Butch sets the bag with the grub in it by the door along with our two bags we brought and Duncan's suitcase full of clothes. Kate and Duncan come down the stairs with his small duffel bag full of toys. His "favourites," as he put them.

"About ready to head out, little man?" I ask him. He nods a bit reluctantly. "You're going to miss it here, huh?" He nods again. Crouching down in front of him, I say, "We can come back and visit sometime. But you do want to come with us still, right?"

"Yeah. I just want to be with you, Dad." His expression and tone combined is almost too much to handle, and makes me question leaving him all over again.

"Well, you get to be with me now." I try my best to smile past the emotions of it. He smiles back at me. I stand and walk up to Kate, Butch and Ellis having joined her a minute ago near the door. "I know I've already said it, but I just want to thank you again. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't of helped me."

Butch shakes his head. "You don't gotta keep thanking us. It was no problem at all. He's a great kid." I look down at my son, who is looking up at me with a grin on his face. Butch sees him. "Yeah, I'm talking about you." He bends down to hug him. "Be good, okay, kiddo?" Duncan nods.

Kate now kneels and embraces him tightly. "I'm going to really miss you, Duncan. It's going to be a lot quieter around here without you." She looks to Butch. "Maybe we should've had another child."

He laughs, then shakes his head. "Nah. The last one took a toll on you. Probably not a good idea, Nosebleed." I remember how she said she'd almost died in childbirth with Ellis. And as for the reason he still calls her Nosebleed after all these years… it's beyond me.

Duncan walks up to Ellis, as he hasn't made a move since standing next to his mother. "I gonna miss playing with you, Ellis," he says.

Ellis looks at him with a look of mild despondence. "Yeah…" He looks down for a second before dashing up the stairs. I can't help but to think how rude that was.

Duncan feels like he is his brother of sorts, so he looks sad at Ellis's response. Yet, when I look at Kate and Butch's faces, they're smiling. _What?_

Ellis comes back with a red toy car in his hands. He stands in front of Duncan for a moment then hands it to him. "You always said your cars were better than mine. But this one has always been the best. I still think it is, but… I… I want you to have it." Duncan is shocked, as am I.

With a smile on his face, my son steps forward and hugs the DeLoria boy. Ellis is now the shocked one, his whole face shaped into a loose _O_. Finally, he puts his arms around Duncan and hugs him back. "I'm gonna miss playing with you, too, Duncan."

* * *

Beth POV

 _I've never traveled with a kid in the wasteland before…_

As Robert, Duncan, and myself trek back to Rivet City—where we left our boat—I can't help but to be nervous. _What if a rabid dog pops up out of nowhere? What if deathclaws are twice as big here? Or worse… What if those things Robert told me about are around here?_ I think of the terrifying sounding creature he called a centaur, and shiver at just the thought of one. It doesn't help that the sun has started setting and the light breeze has made for a chilly night.

"Do you think we should stop in Rivet City?" Robert asks, as if he can tell I want to get out of the elements. I nod.

* * *

When we reached the boat town last night, I was happy to realize we had made it there with little conflict. A couple giant ants could hardly count toward the whole "death and ultimate doom" factor. We rented out a hotel room and crashed for the night, Duncan sleeping between us on the bed. In the morning, we took all our luggage—so much for the wasteland, so little for Pre-War times—and boarded the boat. Duncan seemed excited since he was out of Megaton, away from Kate and them. He could hardly sit still for the first hour, before falling asleep in the cabin, using one of the bags as a makeshift pillow. _Kids and how they fall asleep on trips,_ I thought to myself as I looked at him with a grin.

* * *

On our second night of the journey, I lie down outside the cabin, looking up at the stars, as Robert takes his shift of driving the boat—soon after laying down, I'm asleep. I wake up for the briefest of moments, and hear him talking quietly with his son.

"Would you help me with that?" he asks the boy.

"Yeah. No problem, Dad."

Before I know it, I'm back to sleep.


	28. 27 A Modest Proposal

_A/N: Jonathon Swift wrote an essay called_ A Modest Proposal. _Thought I'd put a spin on his title, as I like wordplay._

 _By the way, spoilers ahead for Blind Betrayal. Sorry, but it's just a disclosure._

* * *

27\. A Modest Proposal

Beth POV

 _A Thousand Years_ by Christina Perri

Duncan is shocked when we pull the boat up to an island instead of the mainland. "You don't live in the city?" He looks toward the Boston skyline.

His dad picks him up and sets him on the dock. "Nope. This is it, buddy." When Robert and I are loaded down with all our bags and whatnot, the three of us step out of the boathouse. Duncan finally gets a good look at Spectacle Island. Since he wasn't expecting _this_ to be it, he didn't really look at it before. Robert says, "As long as you stay out of the water, you can go look around while we put our stuff away." Duncan gets an excited look in his eye, grins, and takes off like a bat out of hell. "Just be back to the house before dinner!" he yells after him. Laughing, Robert and I make our way to the house, glad to be back—and now with a plus one. _It's not just us anymore_ , I think merrily.

As I'm putting up the two bottles of water we didn't drink on the way back from DC, I hear small footsteps run through the front door, followed by a drawled, "Wow!" I peek around the corner and see Duncan standing on the far end of the hallway and laugh to myself. "This place is _huge!_ " He wonders throughout the house, looking through every nook and cranny, not leaving a single rock unturned.

Robert sees me tailing him from the next room, sees the smile on my face. He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "He's not used to such a big house," he says as he puts his chin on my shoulder. "It's gonna take a while to adjust—like I did." He kisses me just below the ear. "You sure like to live big, Beth." He chuckles. I turn around and put my arms around his neck.

"Nah. I just like _big_ in general." He sneers at me as I lean forward and bite his lower lip. Duncan comes through the door and sees us. I'm afraid of his response, and almost let Robert go until I see the boy grinning. He just walks past us to the next room. _So calm?_ I can't help the question-like "tone" to my thought.

Robert's eyes follow him. "Should we show him his room?"

I grin at him. "I think so."

"Hey, Duncan?" The boy turns around, his face curious. "Want to see your room?"

" _My_ room? Aren't we sharing like normal?" He seems surprised, yet at the same time, he looks like he's trying not to be too excited in case of disappointment.

"Nope." Robert goes up the stairs, Duncan and I behind him.

As we walk through the hall upstairs, Duncan still has a face of bewilderment, like he just can't wrap his head around the concept of such a big house. When we reach the doorway to his room, Robert steps aside to let the boy pass him. Duncan's eyes go round immediately. He slowly walks to the center of the room and does a three-sixty.

He looks at his bed, his desk, his dresser, his reading nook—everything, _his_. He gazes back to us, standing in the doorway, staring at him with smiles on our faces. He can't believe his eyes.

"It's all yours," I tell him. "If you don't like it, we can certainly change it around, get you some new stuff—" I'm cut off by him running directly to me and wrapping his arms around my legs. Not his father's— _mine_.

"Thank you," Duncan says to me, his voice distorted from his face being pressed against my leg. I look to Robert, confused.

"He knows it was you that did this for him—he just knows. He has Lucy's adept senses," he says with a grin. I kneel and hug Duncan back.

He leans back and looks at me. "I never had a room to myself," he tells me. He quickly wipes the single tear from the corner of his eye. "Dad and I always shared a room, cause we only had one mattress." He looks to Robert. "Where do you sleep now?"

Robert waves him across the hall, to the doorway of our room. "Right here. This is where we sleep," he says, signifying both of us. To my surprise, Duncan just nods. I was half expecting him to be grossed out, or maybe even a little mad. He's old enough by now to know that his mom and dad should be sharing a bed, not his dad and some random woman he'd met a few days prior. But he doesn't seem bothered in the slightest by it. He turns and walks back to his room. When Robert passes me to follow him, he kisses me on the cheek and gives me an encouraging smile.

When I follow the two of them back across the hallway, I see Duncan looking at his bookshelf. He plucks a book from it and sits on the easy chair, opening it and looking through its contents. Once he's pleased with his pick, he leans back and starts to read it from the beginning.

Robert's watching him from the doorway like I am, and when he sees my shocked expression, he explains. "Lucy used to read to him all the time. Even though it was just from medical textbooks. I know he was very young, but it still stuck with him. So, he's used to reading. Kate also told me that she read to both Ellis and Duncan every night. She only reads advanced material, so you can understand that he knows a lot, and can read quite well for his age."

I notice the author of the work in Duncan's hands. "He's reading a work by Jonathan Swift." Robert smiles and nods. "He's not even six."

"He will be on August twenty-fourth."

I think of today's date. "That's not for another almost… four months." He nods again. I look back to Duncan, seeming quite pleased with his book choice. "In all honesty, I didn't even think he'd even pick it up for another like, four years. I _definitely_ was not expecting him to after only an hour of getting here." Robert chuckles.

"C'mon." He tugs on my arm. "Let's go start dinner."

* * *

"I'll go let him know it's ready," Robert tells me as I'm setting the table up. I'm not sure why I picked out such a large table to begin with. When we were on the furniture hunt, we weren't really talking about having Duncan here. It had been mentioned, but not set in stone yet. Plus, the chances of having company were small, so we didn't exactly need the room for dining.

When I set my and Robert's plates out, I think, _Does Duncan even use plates, or is he still at that plastic plates and utensils stage? When do kids even outgrow that? Especially in today's time?_ With the lack of actually raising a _child_ , my knowledge on them are extremely limited. I decide to just set out a regular plate for him, until I learn what he needs.

I sit on one of the chairs and wait for my boys to come down. _Been a while since I've thought those terms._ I think back to when I had Nate and Shaun to wait on and smile. _Nice to have that again… What is taking them so long? I haven't even heard them talking…_ As I think this, I finally hear movement upstairs—small steps walking from Duncan's room to the hallway, to the stairs. I also note that there's bigger steps moving from Duncan's room to across the hallway, to our room.

As Duncan rounds the corner, he sniffs the air approvingly. "What's for dinner?"

"Your dad and I made a yao guai roast. Thought we'd splurge a little as a welcome home meal." He sees the pan sitting on the kitchen island and smiles. And as I'm cutting us all some of the roast, Robert walks in, and without realizing it, copies his son by smelling the air. _Like father, like son._ I chuckle.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I had to go get something." He doesn't elaborate further, leaving me curious. I just leave it alone with a shake of my head as we sit down and dig in. After a few minutes of silent eating—from us all being so hungry—Robert asks, "So, Duncan—how do you like this place so far?"

Duncan drops his fork onto his plate and gestures with his arms as he says, "It's so big! Like, this big!" He holds his arms out even further. "I like it!" He picks his fork back up and takes a bite as he continues, "I met a lady earlier." _Must've been Curie._ "She's nice."

"You met Curie?" Robert asks as the boy nods. "Did you like her, too?"

"Yeah." He swallows. "She talks funny, but she's nice. She showed me her house. It's really small compared to this one."

"She wanted a cozy place to live," I tell him. "And she's the only one living there, so her house doesn't need to be as big as ours."

"Oh." He takes another bite then asks, "What's that empty room for? The one next to mine?"

Robert and I share a look. He says, "When we built this house, we planned for Beth's son to live with us…" I look down at my plate and realize I'm not hungry anymore.

Duncan doesn't freak out in the mentioning of my having a son, so I assume Robert had told him at some point. Instead, he asks, "Why can't he live here? I didn't make him not want to live here, did I?" He looks worried.

His dad is quick to answer. "No, no. Of course not… It's… There's another reason. You don't need to worry about it, buddy." He stands up. "That room's just gonna be empty for a little while, okay?" Duncan nods. "You two done?" I hand him my plate as Duncan takes another bite then hands it to Robert, who takes the plates to the rest of the roast and dumps what we didn't eat into the pan with it. Normally, the Pre-War me would cringe, but in this world, you have to save every last morsel.

I see Duncan nod in my peripheral vision, then he stands and walks up to my side. "Beth?" This shocks me since he's never directly addressed me by name. I look at him curiously, and try to leave the shock out of my expression. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Duncan." I turn toward him in my chair.

He looks at his hands as he asks, "Would it be okay if I called you Mom? I mean, I know you're not, and I really wish I could remember my real mom more, but… it'd be nice to have someone to call Mom… And I think you're going to be a good mom for me." He looks up at me and smiles shyly.

I'm beyond words, so I just nod. He leans in and gives me a hug. I tell him, "I'd love to be your mom," and kiss the top of his head, making him blush a little bit.

From behind me, I hear, "Want to make it official?"

I'm still looking at Duncan as I say, "I think we just did." I smile at the boy, who smiles back.

"Well, you two did. What about me?" Robert asks. "I want to make it official," he adds in a hammy childish tone. Duncan—still smiling—points behind me, to where his dad is. I look over my shoulder and nearly fall out of my chair.

Robert is maybe three feet from me, kneeling on one knee, and holding his fist closed. Duncan grabs my hands and tries his best to pull me onto my feet. Once I'm standing, he leads me toward his father, whose face now shows his amusement. "Can I call you Mom, too?" He teases, winking at Duncan, making him giggle.

I'm close enough for him to touch, so he grabs my hand and holds it in his own. "Before I get to the punchline, I need to make this at least a _little_ cheesy." He chuckles than clears his throat.

"Beth. I feel like when I met you, I was lost. I was still feeling guilty over Lucy's death, and I definitely felt guilty that Duncan was sick. The fact that I'd left him in DC while I was wallowing in Goodneighbor made me feel worthless. But everything changed when I met you.

"You were so timid when you first came into the Third Rail. But you still left an imprint on my mind, and even though it was a month until you came back, I never forgot you—you'd pass through my mind more than I'm willing to admit.

"But when you came back, and you were so different—so strong—I didn't know I would've fallen this hard for you. But it happened, and I'll forever be curious as to how you felt the same about me.

"But, all that aside… I know I can't live without you. You've brought a light into my life that I didn't know I needed. You saved my son, and you saved me… from myself. I want to spend the rest of my life making that up to you." He opens his fist to show me a simple wedding band—silver, and inscribed with the word _Eius_ on the inside. I feel my face fall into a more than surprised expression. "Will you marry me, Beth? Make me the happiest man in the world?"

I nod wildly. "Yes!"

He gets to his feet and hugs me tightly. I realize I'm crying as he leans back and takes my left hand in his, slipping the ring onto my ring finger and glances over at Duncan, silently inviting him to join the celebration. He picks him up and the three of us share an intimate hug in the middle of the kitchen.

* * *

That night, after Duncan had gone to bed, Robert and I lay in our own, talking.

"It already had that word inscribed," he says. "Sorry if you don't like it."

I raise my hand up, looking at the ring for the millionth time. "No, I love it," I assure with a smile. "I've always preferred silver over gold. And as for the inscription…" I look to him. "I couldn't agree more." He looks at it, then at me, confused. I laugh. "It means 'his' in Latin. I couldn't agree more," I repeat, leaning over to give him a kiss.

"Then what does this mean?" He produces a second ring out of his pocket and hands it to me. In the same spot as mine, it reads _Illius_. I laugh again. "What?" he asks.

"You got lucky with giving me the one you did," I say. "This one," I indicate the one he handed me, "says 'hers' in Latin." I hand it back him, and he looks at the word inscribed there.

"I need to thank Danse, then." Now I'm the one looking confused. He chuckles. "Danse was the one that found these. He said he wasn't even sure why he kept them. But when I mentioned I wanted to marry you, he offered them to me, said he wanted to see them get used. He handed me that one," he points to my hand, "and said that one is yours. So, I just trusted him with it. Guess since the Brotherhood's motto is in Latin, it shouldn't surprise me he knew what they said."

"You got them from Danse?" He nods. It finally clicks for me. "Oh! So, that's where you went that one night, a little while back? When he 'needed help with his report?'" He nods again, a bit sheepishly this time. I smack his arm. "You lied to me?"

"Had to!" he counters, rubbing his "sore" arm. "Would've spoiled the whole thing if I hadn't."

I think of Danse's involvement the following morning. "So, he was in on it…"

"Of course he was," Robert chuckles. "He had to be. Shoot—he gave the rings to me in the first place." He puts the ring back in his pocket before settling down again. "Man, it's gonna be weird to wear that."

"You didn't when you and Lucy were married?" I ask.

"No. Neither of us did. Rings are kinda hard to come by, for one. And two, we didn't feel the need. We were young and just didn't care about that sort of stuff."

"Well, don't wear one for me," I tell him. "I'm used to it so it won't bother me, but if it does you…"

"No, I'm going to. Just because I didn't before, doesn't mean I'm not going to now. I want to _partly_ for you," he says, "because everyone wore wedding rings before the War, I want to do that for you. But also, I want to for me. I'm going to be so proud to call you my wife, that I'm going to want to show it off. You'll be lucky if I don't walk around, shoving my hand in people's faces and bragging about it." He laughs.

* * *

"Beth?" I wake up to Robert sitting on my side of the bed. "Beth, there's a Brotherhood dude here. He said you're needed on the Prydwen ASAP." I lean onto my elbow and check the time.

"…It's not even five yet."

"Sounded urgent," he says. I sigh and get to my feet. As I'm getting dressed, he continues, "He said you can ride with them. I'm going to stay here with Duncan for now. If you need my help, send for me, please."

"I will," I promise.

Twenty minutes after being woken up, I'm on my way to the airship, where I'm greeted, and whisked onto the observation deck to meet with Elder Maxson. He's facing away from me, gazing down into the city.

"Elder," I salute. He turns toward me, and I instantly wonder if my tone was disrespectful, from the way he looks at me.

"Knight," he spits. "I have word that Paladin Danse has gone AWOL. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"No, sir. It's been a while since I've seen Danse. I just got back from DC—the Capital Wasteland—yesterday. I've been gone for almost two weeks, sir. Last time I saw him was before I shipped out."

"Oh." His response is rigid. "Well, then perhaps he told you something important _before_ you left?"

"He told me that Dr. Li had arrived, but that I was on leave until further notice—about a month, he presumed." My brows scrunch together. "Sir, what are you trying to get at?"

"Nothing of imminent importance." His already bitter expression turns into even more of an angry scowl. "Just the fact that Danse is a synth!"


	29. 28 Synthetic Work

28\. Synthetic Work

Beth POV

 _Crossfire_ by Stephen

"What?" I'm completely taken aback by the Elder's statement. "He… can't—that's impossible! …You're lying."

"Am I?" He slams a folder into my hand. "See for yourself." I open the folder I'm given and scan through document after document. They all say the same thing. "M7-97 and Paladin Danse are one in the same. The fact that he's gone AWOL proves this further—as if the data from the Institute and our own records are not corroborative enough already."

I've seen enough. I close the folder and hand it back to him. "There must be some kind of mistake—"

"There is no mistake," he cuts me off. "Danse is a synth—a monstrosity of technology. Which leaves me facing the most difficult order I've ever given." _Please, no._ "I'm ordering you to hunt down Danse, and execute him."

"…If you think I'm going to kill him, you're a fool…"

"That was an order, Knight. I expect you to follow it. There is no other option—no debate. There mustn't be any exceptions. Even if it means we have to execute one of our own.

"I'm not blind to the fact that he is your mentor and this will be a cumbersome burden to bear. But this is the reason I am telling _you_ to do it. It will help the Brotherhood remain strong—help _you_ remain strong. Just remember this—a promotion is waiting upon your decision of disobeying _or_ following through. But I expect you will do as you're told, Knight." He continues to look at me with a hard look in his eye, like he thinks I won't do it.

I decide my best shot is to play along with his game. I say a curt, "Yes, sir," then about-face, leaving the observation deck. I'm not able to think much into what just happened when Scribe Haylen bumps into me.

"Can we speak privately?" she asks. Seeing I'm about to decline, she says, "It's urgent… and about the matter at hand." Reluctantly, I nod and follow her to the flight deck, where, shockingly, there is only one guard on duty—save the Lancer near a Vertibird, clearly on break. When we are out of earshot, she spins and asks me, "You're not going to kill him, are you?" Her tone tells me she already knows my plans. When I shake my head, she sighs in relief. "I didn't think so. Listen. I know where he is—I think. You have to go warn him. If you don't do it, Maxson will just order someone else to do it!" She realizes her volume and clears her throat. Speaking quieter, "Please. For him, for me. You have to do something…"

"I will," I tell her. "Where do you think he is?"

"Listening Post Bravo. It's a little ways northeast of Bunker Hill."

"Thank you." I walk to the Lancer. "Can I get a lift to Bunker Hill? I have some business to attend to." _Can't land_ too _close to him…_

* * *

When I make it to the place Haylen said he'd be, I'm greeted by a few active and very aggressive protectrons—earning a pretty bad laser burn on my arm in the process. Once they're down, I make my way into the room where Danse is. He's sitting on top of an old military trunk, looking down at the floor.

"I'm not surprised Maxson sent you. He never did like doing the dirty work himself." He looks up at me, his eyes full of desperation. "But, why you? Why not one of the Initiates? Someone who wouldn't think twice for a promotion…"

"He thinks it'll help _strengthen_ me—or toughen me up, is what he was probably thinking…" I walk up to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He looks down again and kicks the truck with the heel of his boot a few times before responding. "I didn't even know myself." He looks up, intense anxiety in his features. "Can you even begin to fathom how I'm feeling? To find out that I'm something I've been taught to hate, to seek and destroy…

"When I first learned about it, I didn't know what to do. So, me being a soldier, my self-preservation kicked in. I just ran here straight away—I had to regroup and assess the situation. But, as soon as I made it here—as soon as I realized I'd gone AWOL—I knew I just made it worse. I should have just stayed on the Prydwen and accepted the inevitable." He jumps off of the trunk and takes a couple steps toward me. "Tell me. Does Maxson even want me alive?"

I take a deep breath. "No. He ordered me to execute you."

He nods. "Rightfully so. I need to be put down. It'd be better for everyone."

"No! It won't be—"

"I need to be the example, not the exception."

He puts his hands behind his back, and kneels to the ground—execution style—awaiting me to fulfill my order. "You don't understand, Danse," I say, kneeling on the ground in front of him—it's the only way he'll look at me. I look into his brown eyes—eyes that look back at me with the sad acceptance of death. "You clearly don't see how your death will affect the people around you."

"It doesn't matter. The entire Brotherhood knows my true identity now. They hate synths as much as I do. No doubt they'd kill me first chance they got."

"I'm not talking about them. I'm being more specific. What about your squad? Rhys, Haylen? …Me?" I look down at my hands and absentmindedly play with the ring on my finger. "Do you have any idea how your death will affect _me_?" I look back at his eyes, which are watching me play with my hands still. "I mean… I already lost my family. I can't afford to lose my mentor, too. My _friend_." He shifts his gaze back to my face, looking a bit shocked. "I couldn't cope, Danse. Maybe I'm being selfish. But right now… I don't care. I think I deserve to be a little selfish from time to time."

"…You do." He takes the BOS hood off his head and tosses it on the floor. "I never thought about that. I've been too busy thinking about what it meant to be _what_ I am. I never put much thought into _who_ I am, what I'd be taking away from those around me.

"You're right…" He sighs. "I need to hitch a ride back to the Capital Wasteland, get away from the Brotherhood altogether. I'm sorry I didn't realize this sooner. Thank you." He puts his hand on my arm—right where my laser burn is—earning a yelp from me. "What is it?" He takes his hand off right away.

"I got burned from one of those fricking protectrons outside."

"Oh. Sorry about setting those… I was expecting someone else to come for me." I nod once, my arm still stinging. "Here." He stands and moves to a nearby med kit. Bringing back a syringe of Med-X, a Stimpak, and some gauze, he sits on the floor and rolls my sleeve up. "Let me at least take care of it."

With the precision of a soldier used to combat, he injects the two medications and asks, "So, he did it, huh?"

I feel the Med-X hit me like a truck, making me go lightheaded for a minute, so I don't know what he means. "What?"

"MacCready." He nods his head to my left hand, as his own hands are full with gauze, wrapping my arm. "He finally popped the question, did he?"

"Oh." I look down at my hand, the lightheadedness still passing. "Yeah. Last night, actually. His son helped, which was, like, the best thing ever." I smile at the memory. Danse's face shows just a bit of shock, like he didn't know about Duncan. I continue, "Yeah, we just got back from DC—I mean, the Capital Wasteland—yesterday. That was where Duncan was, so we went and picked him up."

"Must have been a long trip by boat," he comments, finishing up the wrapping of the gauze.

"Not as long as I thought it'd be—couple days, really. So, we've been gone for about a week."

After we've been sitting here in silence for a minute, he suggests, "Well. I think we should head out. I need to get some things together before I go back to Rivet City. And I suggest you take leave for a week or so—make it seem like you need time for grief or whatever."

"Good idea. You can gather some stuff on Spectacle Island if you want—meet Duncan." He nods as we board the elevator to the surface.

* * *

"As I suspected." The clearly livid voice of Elder Maxson surprises me, and causes me to jump slightly.

Danse had walked through the door leading out of the bunker before I had, resulting in Maxson's ire. Once I walk out myself, I hear the Elder's rather loud puff of angry air.

"How dare you betray the Brotherhood—betray me!" Elder Maxson is looking directly at me, knowing his orders were all but ignored.

"It's not her fault, it's mine," Danse tries to deflect the blow directed at me.

"Quiet, synth!" This triggers me.

I step in front of Danse—subconsciously becoming a meat shied. "Hey! There's no need for rude behaviour!"

Maxson just chortles, mocking me. "'Rude behaviour?' That is not what I would consider rude. However, disobeying direct orders and keeping a monstrosity alive, is." He looks up to Danse's face. "Now step aside, Knight. I suppose I must finish what you refuse to."

He's about to take out a laser pistol when I've had enough. I stroll up to the leader of the Brotherhood and—considering our height difference—nearly break my neck looking up at his face. Surprised by my sudden action, he halts his weapon retrieval and gazes at my fuming expression, his eyes wide.

"Why do you want him dead so badly? Because he's a synth? I get that. But he's more than just a synth. He's more human than most people I know. He's helped me in distressing and great times of need. He's cared about me practically from day one—not caring about how inconvenient it was for him to check on me when I was under the weather, or to help with my own personal relationship." I raise my hand to show off the silver band on my finger. "He'll _always_ be human to me—no matter _what_ he's considered in your mind.

"And, if I may stretch it out a little further? In his less than shining hours, he still shows me that he is the real man here—the real _human_. All I see in front of me, is a coward—a brute who refuses to see that this man—" I gesture to Danse's form behind me, "has given blood, sweat, and tears for the Brotherhood—for _your_ name! And you are just so willing to throw that out the window due to his being a machine? Does the Brotherhood not have a Mr. Gutsy in Scribe Neriah's lab? Have I not seen logs in the Brotherhood's terminals about the wish of acquiring P.A.M. from the Railroad? They are machines as well, and machines you are _happy_ to have onboard. If the only difference is that Danse looks human—if that is the matter at hand—that is a _stupid_ reason."

"Are you saying you care about synths?" Maxson asks me.

"I'm saying that I care about _this_ synth. He has done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment. And I refuse to see him put to death for doing _nothing_ other than serving the Brotherhood faithfully for years on end."

Maxson is still looking down at me, my body no further than two feet from his own, due to my stomping up to him so aggressively. "You're a stubborn woman." He now glances up at Danse. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead. You were perused and slain by this Brotherhood Knight, your remains incinerated. You are not allowed to step aboard the Prydwen again, ever. And know that if you happen across any Brotherhood soldier, you will be shot on sight. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. Thank you, Arthur."

"Don't mistake my mercy for acceptance. The only reason you're still alive," he points to me, still a couple feet from him, "is because of _her_." He glances down at me, taking a small step backward. "Meet me on the Prydwen soon. We still have to Institute to deal with." He looks at Danse, then me once more, and goes back to his Vertibird.

I'm so shocked I actually convinced him, I'm speechless. When the aircraft is no longer in sight, Danse walks up behind me. Turning to him, I see a small smile on his face.

"Thank you, Beth. For believing in me. We both could have died so easily back there." I realize he's right and just nod. "But…" He steps closer and gives me a hug. An actual hug. "We didn't, thanks to you."

Finally able to speak, I add in, " _Maybe_ because of me. I was just trying to distract him, honestly."

He chuckles after stepping back. "A distraction, huh? Seemed like more than that to me. Seemed like your lawyer side kicked in, and that's how you won my case." I laugh a little. "He's never been challenged before, and I don't think you realize how intimidating you can be." He laughs again. "The look in his eyes when you practically charged him. Who knew such a small woman could scare such a big man. Kind of like a tiny bull charging a matador." He gasps. "That's a good name," he whispers.

"Oh, boy." I hang my head.

"You are no longer Beth. From now on, you shall be called Tiny Bull."

"Are you serious?"

"Yup.

"Oh, boy," I repeat. "Well, anyway. Let's get a move on. Spectacle Island isn't close. And I really wanna be home. Have all your stuff?"

"Yes." He indicates a rucksack hanging off his shoulder. "I don't have much to call mine now, so this is it. I can find some new power armour later."

"You alright with swimming?" I ask. "The boat got left there this morning."

"Yeah, that's fine, Tiny Bull."

I just groan as we start our long trek.

* * *

"At least I don't have a suit to have gotten wet," Danse says as he lays his laser rifle down on the back patio to dry out. He'd told me in the past that water isn't the best for them, but once they out, they should be fine. Since it's late evening, he'll have to wait for the sun tomorrow.

"Yeah. You left your T-60 on the Prydwen?" I ask him.

"I did. I'm no longer representing the Brotherhood, so why have it?"

"Who's not representing the Brotherhood?" Robert asks as he walks onto the patio where Danse and I still stand. He sees Danse and looks to me with a confused face.

I sigh. "We have some things to talk about." I motion us all into the living room, where we sit—Danse next to me, and Robert across from us. I notice Danse is looking down, seemingly shy, but almost looking a little shamefaced.

"What's going on?" Robert breaks the silence after a minute of us sitting quietly.

I look to Danse, who I assume would tell the story himself. Instead, he still looks down, a bit beaten. So, I decide to tell it. Coming out straightforward, "Danse has been exiled from the Brotherhood."

Robert looks shocked. "What? Why?" He glances to the man on my right.

"Honestly, it's a lot better then what could have happened… What _would_ have." I steal another look to the ex-Paladin. "Maxson wanted him dead. He almost killed him… since I refused to execute him myself."

Surprisingly, Danse lowers his head even more, gripping it in his hands as he moves his elbows to his knees. Speaking quietly, "She could have gotten killed, too. For not following through with a direct order from an Elder. Thankfully, she's good with words."

Robert stands up suddenly. "What the hell happened? What could have possibly put you two to death?" He looks directly at me. "Beth?"

I look at his concerned face, then to Danse, who nods his head once, signaling me to go ahead and tell Robert. I'm not sure how he'll react, so I take my time, trying to figure out how to put it. I take a deep breath, and as before, just say it.

"Danse is a synth."

For several seconds, Robert just looks at me with a straight face. Then, his brows scrunch. After a good minute—and from the expression on his face, a lot of thought—he asks, "What?" He looks to the person in question, as if for the first time. "Is she for real?"

Danse is still looking at the floor, although now, he is leaning against the back of his armchair. "Afraid so, MacCready."

"No," Robert says, being stubborn about it. "You sleep, eat, think like a human. You bleed, for God's sake."

"It doesn't matter. They created the Gen 3 synths to replicate humans. I'd say they did a good job, considering I only found out my true identity yesterday."

I chime in, "The Brotherhood called me to the Prydwen as soon as they found out. It's true." Robert's just standing there, shaking his head, like he can't believe his ears, or like we're lying.

"Robert," Danse addresses him. He snaps his head up fast, as Danse had never called him by his first name before. "It's not a lie. I am a synth, created by the Institute. I'm sorry, but that's just the truth of it. I don't like it any more than you do. Imagine how long it took for me to believe it."

"I'm not saying it isn't true… It's just hard to wrap my head around." Robert takes his seat again. "I see why Maxson wanted you dead now."

Danse and I both launch into the full of the day's events, explaining how I'd managed to convince him to stay in the Commonwealth—on the island with us, more specifically—and Danse was more than thrilled to tell the tale of how I "made Maxson's tail go between his legs," and all that. We also discuss future arrangements, including the construction of a house for Danse not too far from Curie's. All I know is that we must have gotten loud, as I hear small patter from above us, then coming down the stairs.

Although he looks tired, Duncan sees me and runs toward me, jumping in my lap and giving me a big hug. "Did we wake you?" Seeing Danse—a stranger—he just nods. "I'm sorry," I tell him. "I'm glad to see you. I had to leave pretty early, huh?" He nods again, glancing over at the new person. "Gosh, I'm being rude. Duncan, this is our friend, Danse. I used to work with him on the big airship north of here." I give the boy a small squeeze as I look to Danse. "This is Duncan, Robert's son. We just got back from picking him up in the Capital Wasteland a day or so ago."

Once Danse makes eye contact, Duncan looks away, uttering a shy, "Hi."

"Hello," Danse responds. Then, silence. "Sorry, I'm not very good with kids. Especially with… how old is he?"

Robert tells him, "Five, almost six."

"Wow. Yeah. The only kids I've been around were squires of about ten years and up."

"It's okay," Robert laughs. "It just takes a little bit of time to get used to it. Beth has handled it really well." He looks to me with a smile, making me chuckle.

"I suppose so," Danse agrees. "With the way he was so excited to see her, I would assume."

"Well, yeah. She's my mom," Duncan says suddenly, making all three of our heads turn in his direction. "I missed her today. I was surprised when I woke up and Dad said she had to go to work."

Danse looks to Robert, then to me. "I thought you said he was his…"

"He is," I clarify. "I'm his stepmom, but he just calls me Mom."

Robert expands. "His mother passed when he was almost two. It's been about four and a half years now, I guess. He doesn't remember her very well."

Duncan pats my arm wrapped around him. "But I have a new mom now, so it all worked out." He smiles at me, then at Danse. "I like her a lot."

"You sure do, buddy," Robert says, grinning himself.

* * *

Danse took the couch that night, and we all gathered materials for his house the following morning—even Duncan helped a little bit, carrying a box of nails or announcing if we were about to whack one another in the head with the boards we carried. The house ended up being erected and complete within a couple weeks—considering two of the five people working on it were women, and one was a child, we were all surprised at the speed it was finished.

Leaving Danse and Curie behind on the island, Robert, Duncan, and myself decided to pay a visit to Diamond City a couple days after the construction of Danse's house was complete. We bought ammo for our rifles, as well as a toy truck Duncan could not take his eyes off of. Robert had mocked me, telling me _I told you so_ when he explained how spoiled I was making Duncan already. I just shook it off as we headed to the Detective Agency.

* * *

"A doggie!" Duncan shouts as he sees Dogmeat, completely forgetting his new toy and bounding for the canine in a flash. Dogmeat licks his face as he drops to his knees, making the boy produce a long round of giggles.

Nick smiles when he sees us. "Ellie's gonna be sad she missed you. She has the day off." He looks to Duncan. "Been a while," he says, continuing to stare at the child on his floor, still laughing from Dogmeat's tongue assault. "What made you come all this way? I heard you live on Spectacle Island now."

"Who told you that?" I ask, not remembering if I told him about the move or not.

"Oh, just a little bird. Stealthy, featherless, and hates the sun in his eyes." He smiles, knowing we know exactly who he means.

"We've been pretty busy," I say, thinking back to the last time I saw the synth detective. "Man, things have really changed."

As Duncan continues to play with Dogmeat, Robert and I tell Nick everything we'd been up to in the last months. From building our house, to burying Nate, to finding Shaun, to my near-death experience in Vault 81, to Curie and Danse living on the island, and all the way to having Duncan home with us now.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Nick asks me, staring at my lap, where Duncan now sits—or rather, half lays—as he sleeps from "playing too hard with the doggie."

"I don't think so?" I look to Robert, who looks confused also.

"Your hand, doll?" I take my hand away from holding Duncan up, nearly making him fall over in the process. After he adjusts himself, I look to my appendage. "Your ring!" Nick says, laughing. "How can you forget to tell such news?"

 _I feel dumb now._ "Wow, I feel stupid," I say out loud. "I guess so much has gone on, and we've been going nonstop for so long now. Guess I'm worn out." I laugh. "Yeah. He proposed to me a couple weeks ago, with the help of this little one. It was the best." I look to my fiancé— _wow, haven't thought of him as that yet—_ and pat him on the cheek opposite me, earning a smile.

"Look at you," Nick says. "Just months ago, you were barely clinging on. Now… you have a family—a life. I'm so proud of you, kiddo." I look to the boy in my lap, my soon _ish_ -to-be husband, Dogmeat—who we'd decided to take home with us for Duncan—and feel a swelling in my heart.

"I know, Nick. I know. I couldn't ask for more, huh?"

* * *

 _A/N: Due to finals at the time of writing this_ — _as well as a mental brain blockage of knowing what I wanted to write, just not_ how _to write it_ — _this chapter ended up marking the beginning of my downward slant in this fic. I still enjoyed writing it, but because I'd taken a month off before starting it up again, I felt as if the quality of my story lacked a bit. I hope it will still be satisfactory enough to continue reading. But if you do see a difference, and want to let me know, please don't hesitate._


	30. 29 Treasure Seeker

29\. Treasure Seeker

MacCready POV

While roaming the shops in Diamond City, Beth heard something about treasure in Jamaica Plain. Naturally, this sparked her curiosity. So, where did we head? Well, not back home, that's for sure.

We grabbed Dogmeat, boarded the boat, and made our way to find the "treasure" everyone has talked about for decades. We were both kinda nervous to have Duncan with us, but we kept telling ourselves that he has to get out in the world at some point. Plus, with Dogmeat by our side, my boy— _our_ boy—would be fine.

We cleared out the ghouls hanging around the town in a short amount of time—and considering there were at least a dozen, it was quite impressive. I have to admit, it was sort of hard to shoot straight with a five-year-old clinging to my leg, but I managed with Beth's help.

"It has to be in Town Hall," Beth says, standing in front of the broken down building. "I wonder if it's in a basement or something." She prods the door open with the end of her rifle. "Let's find out."

As we descend into the basement of the once-thriving city hall, I hear a squeak come from behind me. "Dad! There's a radroach!" I look to where he's pointing—a good ten feet ahead of our little party.

Beth sees it after a few seconds of searching, and grins at him. "Good eyes, Duncan." She raises her rifle to end its existence. Putting my hand on her arm to stop her earns me a confused look.

"Maybe we should let him kill it? Practice and all that." She looks uncertain—and a bit scared—but ultimately, she nods, shocking me a little bit. I look around the room for something to use as a weapon, but come up empty. Beth surprises me yet again when she hands him her own personal combat knife—the same one she used to make her first kill after hiring me all those months ago—has it only been five months?

"Here," she says. "You can have it, if you want it." She signifies our rifles, "We both have guns, so I don't need it as much—besides, it's time you have a weapon, too." As he takes the knife from her hand, he looks as shocked as I feel.

"Wow," he manages to get out. "Thanks, Mom."

He starts to walk toward the radroach hanging on the wall, however slowly. Once it sees him, it jumps off and leaps toward him, making him yelp a bit. It takes me a moment to realize it just bit him on the forearm he used to block his face. Bounding forward and in front of him in two large strides, I place my boots on either side of it, trapping its legs underneath my feet.

"Are you okay?" I ask him. "Lemme see it." With the radroach unable to go anywhere, I take my time to seem calm. He raises his arm up again to show me what seems to be a couple marks—no more than scrapes, really. "Okay. It looks fine," I assure him. Feeling better about it, he takes the knife, and grips it in his hand, only to be stopped by Beth.

"Hey, Duncan. When you hold a knife, it's best to hold it like this." She takes the bladed weapon and repositions it in his tiny hand, which is almost too small to hold it in the first place. "Alright, go ahead." She takes a step back, watching and anticipating how he'll execute his first wasteland kill.

As he strides back up to the giant insect, having jumped back a bit, he raises the knife, and pauses. A moment later, he puts the knife on the ground next to his feet, carefully—as if he'll break it. "I can't do it." He looks up to me, then back at Beth, like he feels he's disappointing us.

"Why not, buddy?" I ask him. "It can't hurt you now."

"I know," he replies. "I just… I don't know. I just can't do it."

Beth steps back up to him and pats him on the shoulder. "It's okay. Want to just watch us for a while?" He nods, still looking afraid to have disappointed us. "That's okay. May work out better. Who knows." She pops a single bullet into the roach and picks up the knife, trying to hand it back to him. When he shakes his head, "You may need it at some point. At least keep it with you, for our peace of mind." He reluctantly takes it and situates it in one of his belt loops.

When we get to the lowest level, we're glad we left Dogmeat on the ground floor to act as lookout. He would have run straight through all _forty-nine_ laser tripwires. Luckily, Beth found an alternate route, and Duncan has the opportunity to see lockpicking first-hand. He is very interested in it as she performs this task I've yet to learn, asking all sorts of questions as she pulls bobby pins from her pocket to replace the broken ones she uses. Once it clicks, and we're on the other side, it's only a matter of time until the big door is open, too, and all of the "treasure" is laying before us.

"At least I wasn't expecting much to begin with," I tell Beth as she looks through the glass cases lining the walls with Jamaica Plain's finest prizes tucked safely inside.

She sighs. "Yeah. I shouldn't have been expecting much, either, but… a girl can hope." She lifts up the small stack of books in her arms. "At least I found these."

"What've you got there?"

"A few history textbooks about Massachusetts, _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_ , and I guess someone thought it'd be funny to include _Dracula_ and _Frankenstein_ due to it being near Halloween when this display opened."

" _Is_ it funny?" I ask.

"A little," she chuckles. As she says this, we notice Duncan has been really quite. Looking over to him, she asks, "Find something, kiddo?"

He points to the case. "That's the smallest car I've ever seen."

I walk up to the display and see a toy car about three inches long. "You already have, like fourteen million," I razz him.

"But I don't have one like that! The sign says it won something! I want a winning car." I sigh dramatically, rolling my eyes and arching my back—definitely laying it on thick—and give him an exaggerated, _Okay_. "Yay!" He goes to open the case. "Um… It's stuck. Help?" I sigh again—more to my spoiling him than anything—and open to case, handing him the small car. He smiles and tucks it into the small bag hanging off his shoulder. "Thanks."

When we make our way topside, I ask Beth, "So, you happy you got to see the great treasures of Jamaica Plain now?"

She gestures to her own bag. "Sorta. I mean, I did find some more books and stuff. And they're in excellent condition, thanks to their being buried away all these years."

With Duncan and I having left practically all our belongings near Arefu in DC, we're both in need of some additional clothing—him especially. Since we're not too far, I suggest we head over to Fallon's Department Store and try to find some. Beth obliges and we make our way to the big store seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

Luckily, as the three of us, plus Dogmeat, are walking to the department store, we hear the din of gunfire before we can get too close. Hearing this, we slow our advance considerably to assess what the situation is. Shortly after noticing the scuffle, a large explosion goes off—appearing to be a nuclear bomb, we suspect either Gunners with a Fatman or super mutants with a suicider. While hiding out in an old car showroom, the warfare in front of us ceases.

Although it appears that super mutants had made their lair in the department store itself, they all seemed to have went outside to join their brothers in the fight. This, thankfully, leaves the entire store empty of the nasty, green giants. With the recognition of this, our party is free to roam the building without the fear of our arms being ripped from us.

* * *

Beth POV

"If only you'd known," I laugh as I tell Robert, pointing to an entire display of rings in the basement of the store.

He chuckles. "Oh, well. Wouldn't have worked out the way it did if I'd waited." He pecks me on the cheek as he continues by, glancing inside the other displays.

"True," I chuckle. "I still think it was neat—Danse helping you out like that. Nice of him to offer them in the first place. Kind of like two of the most important men in my life got to give me this ring." He just gives me a look, saying he feels weird about my statement. I giggle, "Hey. I only said 'yes' to one." He rolls his eyes with a small, lopsided grin.

After a few minutes of strolling the jewelry, Robert asks, "Hey, babe?"

"Hm?" I look up from a rather nasty looking pendant.

"I was going to look around this level for a little bit. Want to go help Duncan look for some clothes? I know he'd love your help."

I smile. "Sure."

I find the young boy about thirty feet from us, sitting on the floor and looking at some burnt comics. He notices me coming over and jumps to his feet. "Mom! I found something Dad would like!" He hands me an issue of _The Unstoppables_ and smiles at his find.

"Good job! He'll love it." I tuck it into his bag. "Since we came here for clothes, you think we can go hunt for some now?"

"Sure, Mom."

We walk up the flight of stairs and start our search among the completely-void-of-clothing racks and shelves. As we keep searching, I spot some changing rooms and feel some luck on the horizon. "Maybe in here?"

Walking into the little rooms, I sigh in relief. "Hey, Duncan?" He comes around the corner with an inquisitive look. "Look what I found." I hand him a small pile of fabric and point to the decent-sized mound in the corner of the room. "Have at it."

I'm turning to leave, offering privacy, when he asks a quiet, "Mom?" I look at him. "This place is kinda big, and… a little scary. Don't leave, please. I don't mind you staying." He pats the bench next to him.

"Alright." I say as I take a seat.

He changes into the first outfit—a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. I glance around for a mirror, but realize it must've been taken—or broken—long ago. He seems to not even notice. _Probably never been used to mirrors._ He seems pleased with the fit and quickly gets out of the clothes to try on the next outfit—some slacks and a button up. "Why, don't you look dapper," I tell him, earning a shy smile. I lick my hand to run through his hair—to help shape it as much as mess with him—when I instantly regret it. Tasting a menagerie of dirt, gunpowder, and just _germs_ in general, I gag hard and nearly throw up. Duncan just laughs at me. "Not funny!" I say with my tongue hanging out, and run out of the room to find a sink ASAP.

With running water being a thing of the past, it's no use trying to find a sink to rinse my mouth out with. And since my mind is otherwise inebriated from the disgust, I completely forgot about the water in my bag. I take a bottle out and gargle a mouthful of it thoroughly before spitting into the sink in front of me. However, I still can't help my stomach from retching. This is how I'm found.

"Duncan said you ran in here real quick," I hear Robert say from behind me, accompanied by a small boy's giggle. Another retch. "You okay?" he asks, concern slightly painting his chuckle.

"Fine," I manage to reply. He comes up behind me and silently offers me a bottle of Nuka-Cola, to which I take with gratitude.

"What did you do anyway?"

"She licked her hand!" Duncan answers, as I still have a full mouth of the in-the-moment lifesaver. "You should have seen it, Dad."

"Yeah. I bet it was a sight." To me, "Find anything?"

"Yes. He can show you. I'll… be here. You know, trying not to get sick." They just laugh and walk out of the room.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Technicolour Beat_ by Oh Wonder

Always glad to be home.

With our outing to Diamond City, Jamaica Plain, and then Fallon's, the three of us are worn out—with the exclusion of Dogmeat. He seemed to have rather enjoyed the trip.

I'm placing my duffel bag—used for scavving trips—under the bed when Beth walks in and plops herself down onto her stomach. "I'm so tired." I try to keep my sigh of relief from making itself known. _She didn't see the bag._

I try to answer as quickly and normally as possible. "Was the 'hand incident of 2288' that exhausting?" I laugh.

Her voice is muffled from her face being pressed into the worn-out blanket covering the bed. "Ugh. Yes."

After I finish winding my watch for the millionth time this month, I set it on the table and crawl into bed, ready for a good night's rest. "Duncan asleep?"

"Yeah." She rolls onto her side. "He loves the new pajamas we found. I think it's gonna be hard to get him out of those for a while," she chuckles. "It's good we found some clothes, too. I know mine sure were getting ratty."

"Doesn't hurt to have some extras," I agree.

"Glad we found some pj's. I was feeling weird wearing practically nothing to bed with a five-year-old sleeping next door." I nod, having thought the same thing.

After she continues to lay down across the bed for another good few minutes, with a chuckle I ask, "Maybe you want to lay lengthwise tonight?"

"I guess so," she exaggerates and moves with big, erratic motions, making me laugh all the more. "You're going to wake our son," I tell her when she pulls the blanket out from under her, producing a particularly loud grunt. She stops immediately and stares at me. "Well, I didn't mean you couldn't move at all, Beth."

"Um," she says. "No, I was just surprised is all."

"That I meant you _could_ move?" I joke.

"No," she repeats. "You've never referred to him as _our_ son before. It just caught me off guard a little." She finishes settling into the mattress.

"I guess not technically. But you know I've felt that way, right?" I ask. "I kinda _have_ said things in that sort before."

"Yeah. But still." She wiggles her way closer to me, allowing me to wrap my arm around her. "Still surprised me."

After we lay here for a bit, I break the silence. "So, I was thinking…" She tilts her head up to look at my face. "Maybe we could head back to Diamond City soon."

"We just got back from there. Did we forget something?" Her brows scrunch in deep thought.

"No, no. Just… thought we could go to the chapel… or something." She gives me another look of shock. "What?"

"To…?"

"Get… married…?"

She blinks rapidly in confusion. "I was kind of under the impression we already were?"

"Why? What made you think that?"

She starts to play with a loose string on my shirt. "I didn't think people actually got _married_ nowadays—I didn't think anyone would have the time. Kinda like, you want to be, so you are. How were you married before?"

"It just kind of happened. Like you said. I asked her, she said yes, so we were right then and there."

"Exactly. You didn't even have rings."

"We didn't need them. But you're used to all this in a different way than people on this side of the apocalypse have been in a long time. I want it to be normal for you. Traditional."

"Don't do it for me," she says. "It's kind of a hassle to go to Diamond City just for that."

"' _Just_ for that?' You make it sound like it's not a big deal, Beth." I gently grab her chin, making her look me in the eye. " _You_ are a big deal, and I want to make _this_ a big deal for you. Let me."

She gives me a big smile. "Thank you." She reaches up and gives me a small kiss, only to lean back in after a second and give me a bigger one. Her hand starts going south, and I know where she's taking us. I stop her from going any further, and earn a look of immense confusion.

"So, I know where we're going tomorrow," I tell her. _Where?_ her blue eyes ask me. "We're going to Diamond City. I was kind of wanting to wait until afterwards. You know, to consummate the marriage. And you know I can't wait that long." She laughs at me just to stop after a moment, realizing she was too loud and might have woken up Duncan.

"Tomorrow then," she whispers.


	31. 30 Something Blue

30\. Something Blue

Beth POV

It's finally here. I never thought I'd live to see the day. Literally. Death is quite the real threat anymore.

Both Danse and Curie wanted to come to the wedding, but knew we wanted to keep it in the family. So, we just brought Duncan with us. Or so we thought.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Piper asks as we stroll around the marketplace. "I mean, you made me have to figure it out for myself!"

"Maybe that's how I wanted it?" I look to the reporter with a slightly annoyed expression.

"We'll be at Home Plate," Robert tells me as he and Duncan take off, not wanting to be in the middle of it.

"Nick didn't even know until a couple days ago," I tell her. "So, don't feel all left out, Piper."

"Kinda hard not to, Blue." I'm still not used to the nickname she gave me a while back. Shortly after saying this, she gasps. "That's cool!"

"What?"

"You know the wedding saying: 'Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.'" She giggles, "Looks like you're bringing both the old and blue aspects of that yourself."

"Oh, shut up," I chuckle. "I'm not _that_ old."

"Yeah, sure. Just two hundred thirty-something, right?"

"Two thirty-six," I clarify. "Two thirty-seven come October twenty-third."

"Wait. Wasn't that the date the bombs fell?" she asks, her face shocked.

"And the day I came out of the vault, too. As well as my mother." I chuckle at her lack of words for once. "I know. Ironic, isn't it? Seems like the twenty-third of October is a big date for me. Big events always seem to happen on my birthday."

"Well, you have another five and a half months," she says. "Wonder what it'll be this year?"

* * *

As I'm walking into Home Plate, I see Robert kneeling and handing Duncan his ring. When he sees me, he stands up and smiles. "Thought we could use a ring bearer."

"And what a fine one you make," I tell Duncan.

"Sorry I didn't bring anything dressier," Robert says, looking down at his duster. "I didn't want to have to wear this… but, oh well. This will do, I suppose."

"Did you _want_ to wear something fancier?" I ask him. He nods, his face showing a bit of shame. I chuckle. "Where'd you put that suitcase? Can you get it real quick?" He disappears upstairs while Duncan smiles at me. He saw me pack it last night—he knows what I brought with us.

"Here." He sets it on the table in the kitchen. "What's in it anyway? It's so light."

"Open it," I tell him.

He does as instructed, and the look on his face—priceless.

"What did you do?" He pulls a black blazer out of the luggage, followed by some black slacks and oxford shoes. His expression becomes even more incredulous as he lifts the black bowtie from it.

"One of the assistants at Fallon's thought that suit would go well with our clothing," I say, motioning to Duncan and I. Robert's eyebrows shift upward, as if he hadn't thought into what I'd be wearing. He turns back to the suitcase, only to get his hand slapped by me. "You'll see when you see." I hand Duncan his dress clothes we found yesterday and guide them into the big room. "You boys change in here. I'll be upstairs. No peeking!" I take my outfit and dash up the steps.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Turning Page_ by Sleeping At Last

 _What is taking her so long?_

Duncan and I sit at the kitchen table, waiting for Beth to get changed into whatever ensemble she has prepared.

"You knew?" I ask my son sitting to the left of me.

"Yup. I saw her pack this stuff last night." He smiles triumphantly at me.

"You cheeky boy." His grin just persists.

"You're not going to wear the tie?" he asks me.

"No," I sigh. "Couldn't figure out how to tie it. And I really wanted to."

"Here." Duncan grabs the tie off the table and stands in front of me. He signals me to duck so he can reach around my neck. And—both unpredictably and remarkably—ties the bowtie around the collar of my shirt like an old, seasoned pro.

"Wha—?" He sits down, smiling at how well he did it. "How do you know how to do that? I don't even know, and I'm seventeen years _older_ than you."

"Butch taught me," he says, without skipping a beat. "He thought every boy needs to know how—so when he showed Ellis, he showed me, too." _I need to thank him for that._

"Think you can show me one day?" I ask him.

"Of course, Dad." Duncan's enthusiasm exudes from his smile.

"I'm ready, guys," Beth calls from what I think is the top of the stairs. I take a deep breath and stand, along with my son. We walk around the corner, and I _swear_ , I'm greeted with an angel.

Beth stands where I thought she was standing, and looks… beyond amazing—glorious, really. She's wearing a red dress, sparkly, and tight-fitting, black and white heels to go with it. Her hair is no longer shoulder length, like when I met her, but is now down around her shoulder blades—and at the moment, she has it set back into a small bun behind her head. She even managed to find a tube of lipstick—as her lips are now a light shade of a peachy-pink colour. She looks simply wonderful.

 _…Stunning._ "Do I look okay? I hate not having any mirrors…" She grumbles while tugging at her dress.

"'Okay?'" I take a few steps toward her. "You have no idea how insulting that word is right now. …You look…" I think for a moment. "Perfect." _So many words I could have used to describe her…_

She smiles shyly. "You look pretty dashing yourself." I swear I see pink highlight her cheeks. "You, too," she tells Duncan.

"Well… Shall we?" I extend my arm as she descends the stairs.

She grabs Duncan's hand and takes my outstretched arm. "We shall."

* * *

"Hot date?" Arturo calls out with a grin.

"Yeah," Beth responds with a chuckle and a wave.

We're making our way to the chapel when one of the Diamond City guards says, "Woo. I'd like to do a homerun on _those_ bases. You free later, sweetheart?" I let go of her arm and am about to kick this guy's teeth in, when Beth puts a hand on my chest and smiles at me. She then places Duncan against me—to keep my hands busy, or to keep him from getting hurt, I'm not sure what her plans are. However, she then turns to the man and, as Beth often does, surprises me yet again.

"No, unfortunately. I'm actually _really_ expensive." She slowly makes her way toward the lowlife, walking rather seductively.

"Good thing I've been saving up caps for a good time. What's your price?"

"Well, see: you'd have to pay him off, too." She points to me. "I already had _plans_. You understand." She smiles at him like a vixen.

"I don't see why you can't go on with those plans," he continues as he glances in my direction. "Just add me in with the mix." I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh, I know why. What's your name?"

"Richard."

"Oh, what a fitting name." She leans closer into his ear—yet, I'm still able to make out what she says. "I know exactly why this idea of yours won't work, Richard. You see, he's _mine_ , and _I_ don't like to share. I can see the way you were looking at him as we came your way. It's a shame he's straight, darling—or should I call you Dick? Either from the way you treat residents, or just from your preferred taste of sex?"

"What? I'm not gay!" he yells.

"You keep telling yourself that, Richard. I'm sure your boyfriend will get off on it as he bums you tonight." Beth does an about face and grabs both Duncan and my hand. "Let's go, babe."

As we're walking, I'm sure I look like a dumbfounded idiot. Duncan is walking next to us, laughing at the insults his mom just produced. "Shame aloe doesn't grow anymore," she says as we stop in front of the chapel, "cause he just got burned." She takes a seat on the bench and pulls me forward to retie my loose shoestring.

"Where did that come from?" I finally find the words.

"What?" She looks up. "Oh, all that?" She giggles. "I thought it'd be better: you would have gotten all beat up, your suit would most likely be bloody, Duncan would have to see that, and the jerk would most likely pull a stunt like that again. This way, he probably won't—considering he just got snubbed by a girl he was 'hitting on.' Everybody wins. Except for him. He lost—big time." She stands up and smiles at me—not the vixen smile from before, but _my_ smile, always reserved for me and me only.

"I have to hand it to you, Beth—I think that was the single most badass thing I've ever seen you do."

"Even including the time I killed that deathclaw?"

"Even the time you killed that deathclaw." I shake my head.

* * *

"There we are, folks," Clements says. "By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Although I'd practically been staring at Beth for the past few minutes, she looks different now. Technically, she looks the same as she always has—it's just in my head. She looks more beautiful, more alive. She looks like my _wife_.

At the same time, we meet in the middle and our faces virtually collide together in a fervent kiss. She shows just as much excitement and enthusiasm as I am. Far too soon, I hear Clements clear his throat. "Perhaps you two would want to find a more private place?" I pull my head back, and our lips nearly make a comical suction noise. We laugh, thank the man, take our son, and leave the chapel as a married couple.

"Now what?" she asks, gripping my hand.

"Who cares? The world is our oyster."

* * *

 _A/N: So, Dick is a... well, jerk. Bet you thought I was going to say something else, huh? lol_


	32. 31 The Fight

31\. The Fight

MacCready POV

 _The Kill (Bury Me)_ by 30 Seconds To Mars

"That…" I struggle for breath as much as words. "Wow."

Beth lays next to me in our bed, having showed me yet another amazing time. Her lungs expand and deflate at a fast pace, just like my own. I glance over to see her eyes closed, a smile on her lips. " _That's_ how you consummate a marriage," she says, glancing over at me, her grin turning crooked in complacency. I lean up on my elbow, gazing down at her. "What?" she asks, seeing me staring at her.

"Nothing." I move a piece of hair out of her eyes. "You're just really beautiful, _Mrs._ MacCready."

She smiles hugely. "I could get used to that." She leans up to meet me, giving me a kiss.

She settles back down onto the mattress, with me on her chest, as we both look around our room, lit only by small groups of candles. We're laying here completely content— _more_ than content—when a thought crosses through my mind. And the more I think about it, the more I'm worried about it.

"Beth?"

"Hm?" I can still hear the grin on her face.

I lean up onto my elbow again. "What would happen if you got pregnant?" She looks confused. "I mean… I love kids. And having a child with you sounds awesome, but… I'm kind of scared. Duncan was an accident—a happy one—but still. I'm afraid I'm raising him wrong, and I don't want another kid to fu—er, screw up. This wasteland isn't exactly a good place to raise a family…"

She puts her hand on my cheek. "Robert Joseph MacCready. You are not doing a _thing_ to screw Duncan up. He's a great kid, and he's lucky to have you as a dad. I agree—this world isn't ideal for family life, but it's all we have now.

"And… as for me getting pregnant… It's more than likely not going to happen… I—I haven't had much of a period since leaving the vault. I don't know if it was the cryostasis that froze my cycles or what, but… I don't think we need to worry about that, babe."

"Oh." I lay back down next to her. "Okay." Even though I'd never been to a proper school, I know that periods equal to pregnancies, and a lack thereof, means no children. "Okay."

" _Is_ that okay?" she asks me, concern evident in her tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine." I can't help but to sorta feel relieved, yet at the same time—in a way—I feel… disappointed?

* * *

"Anybody home?" I recognize the voice of the annoying man instantly. _What is Deacon doing here?_ "Hellooo?"

"We're in here!" Beth yells. Deacon walks through the front door like he owns the place. "Well, make yourself at home, D," she laughs.

He comes into the living room, where we sit, enjoying some of the coffee she'd found back at Fallon's. "You said you were home. That equals to 'come in' for me, Bethany."

"I already told you that wasn't my name back at Switchboard." She gives him an exaggerated look of annoyance.

"Would you prefer me call you Elizabeth?" he asks her with a lopsided grin, knowing he's more than likely pressing her buttons.

She sighs. "Then again, I've always liked the name Bethany."

"That's what I thought," he continues to grin.

"So, what have you been up to?" Beth asks him.

"Nothing much. Just making runs back and forth to the Capital Wasteland, making the occasional trip to Diamond City—you know, the norm. What about you two?"

"Oh, man," Beth laughs. "What haven't we done since the last time we saw you. We've been to DC ourselves, actually."

"Yeah—to Megaton."

"Um… yeah…" Beth's brows knit together, most likely wondering how he knows as much as he does, but not questioning it. "I almost died," she continues.

"In Vault 81."

She nods slowly. "Yes… In Vault 81." She acts like she's thinking for a moment, then says, "We found out one of our closest friends is a synth."

"Danse from the Brotherhood. Shame they exiled him. I ran into him on my way in. A little stiff-necked, but nice enough. I guess."

"Yeah." She actually looks annoyed from all his info-sucking abilities.

She's still looking irritated when Deacon suddenly says, "And you two got married. Yesterday in Diamond City, was it?"

Her mild annoyance turns into actual anger and she nearly flies off the handle. "And how might you have obtained this information, Deacon?" She sets her mug down and crosses her arms in a defensive manner.

"I have contacts inside the Wall. They said you also got in one of the guard's faces. I would have loved to have seen that."

"I'm so sure," she responds, her tone ice cold while turning her face away.

"I don't understand why you're upset at me, Beth." As soon as the sentence passes Deacon's lips, she's up and walking toward him.

"Maybe because if I wanted you to know _half_ the stuff you know, I'd tell you myself. You ever wonder how creepy it can be to have someone know _personal_ things—things they weren't even present for?"

"My job is intel. I can't help it." He takes a step back. Not in a cowardly way, but in surprise at her outburst.

"Well, maybe you can _learn_ to help it when it comes to my life from now on, yeah? I don't understand why you're so infatuated with my life, Deacon. Really. I have _no_ clue."

Despite my general dislike for the man, I stand up for him. "Maybe it's like with me. Honestly, I was pretty obsessed with you from day one."

"You were hired on by me, though," she says, looking back to me. "It's different. He wasn't exactly invited."

"Well, damn, Beth. Don't hold back." His tone makes her look back to him.

She looks down, suddenly aware of her attitude. "Sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me today." She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, D."

"Well, what's said is said. I know how you feel now, at least." He turns to walk to the door.

"Deacon!" She lunges and grabs onto his arm. "Don't go—let me make it up to you."

He shakes free of her grasp. "Don't bother wasting your time. I mean, I'm just some kind of fangirl trash anyway, right?" He strolls out the way he came.

Beth stands there in the doorway for a minute, facing away from me. Once she turns and takes her seat again, I realize she's crying. "Beth?" She puts her hand up and shakes her head. _Please, stop,_ her motions say. She stands once again and heads up the stairs.

I want to follow her—make sure she's okay—but I know she needs to be alone right now. I take a deep breath and continue to read the book in my hands. A few seconds later, Duncan comes running in the door.

"Dad!" He stops in front of me—breath ragged, bent over, and hands on his knees. "Did you see that man on the island?"

"That's a friend of your mom and I. His name's Deacon. No need to worry about him, okay?" Duncan looks confused, but nods and goes into the kitchen for a Nuka-Cola. "Hey, grab me one, bud?"

* * *

It's been a good hour since Deacon left, and Beth is still upstairs. Duncan can tell something is up, but he's never been the nosy type. I decide she's had her quiet time. I just need to know what's up.

"Beth?" I enter our room, where I heard her go earlier.

"Yeah?"

I follow the sound of her voice into the bathroom, on the other side of the bedroom. I find her laying in the tub.

"Did… you want to bathe _without_ your clothes?" I ask her—as she's sitting in the tub, full of water, her clothes still on.

"Not really." She repeatedly screws and unscrews the cap of a tube of toothpaste. No telling how long she's been doing it.

I sit on the toilet lid. "Okay…" After a few minutes of the same action, I take the toothpaste from her. "Beth, it's not your fault." She looks up at me.

" _I_ think it is. I mean, I started it. He came by for… who even knows what for—I stopped him before he could even say." She tugs at her jeans under the water. Randomly, she says, "You know, I've been thinking… We should get a pet deathclaw. That'd be awesome."

I'm at a loss for words from her statement as she wiggles in the tub, clearly uncomfortable. I stand and grab her arms. She lets me pull her out of the tub and dry her off, change her into drier clothes. I lead her to the bed and lay her down, lying next to her. Although it couldn't be any later than afternoon, she yawns and rolls into me more. Sooner than later, she's snoring, and lightly gripping my shirt. Duncan comes into the room—or rather peeks around the corner.

"What is it, bud?" I ask him. He quietly walks up to the bed, knowing Beth is asleep.

"The ham radio is going off downstairs," he tells me.

"Do you know who it is?"

"She said Scribe Haylen?"

"Oh, okay. Can you ask Danse to answer it, please? I kinda don't want to get up right now." I indicate the snoring woman next to me.

"Sure." He walks out of the room.

Several minutes later, I hear both small and heavy footfall walk into the kitchen, where the ham radio is kept. "Danse. Go ahead, Haylen." A muffled voice on the other end. "Yeah." The voice again. "Yeah, good hearing from you, too." Pause. "I'll tell her. Thanks." Danse then proceeds toward the stairs.

A moment later, his head peeks around the corner like Duncan's had—just much higher up the doorframe. "Come in, Danse."

He walks into the room, seeming a bit awkward. "So… that was Haylen. I'm sure you heard."

"Only one end, but yeah."

"Oh. Well, she just wanted to tell Beth that Ingram needs to see her pronto. Sounds like they finally stopped dragging their feet."

"You mean…?"

"Yeah. Liberty Prime is ready."

* * *

Beth POV

 _R-Evolve_ by 30 Seconds To Mars

"With the help of the field scribes and Dr. Li, we were able to finish this big guy in a lot shorter time period than we were expecting." Proctor Ingram has the honours to finally reveal to me what the Brotherhood's big project has been this whole time. "Of course, it wasn't an easy task, but we got it done nonetheless."

Robert and I stare up at the giant robot, meant to fight Commies back during the War. However, the bombs fell far before he was complete.

"So, what're gonna do with him?" I ask her.

"What do you think? See those bombs strapped to his back?" She points up. "Looks like the Institute's last supper is going to be radiation—and a lot of it. Shame da Vinci won't be able to paint this one. It's going to be great." She looks over to a scribe and heads in their direction, leaving Robert and I in the robot's enormous shadow.

From the corner of my eye, I see Robert staring at me. He's been doing that ever since Deacon paid us a visit. I don't blame him—far from it. But I can't help to wonder what's on his mind.

And as if he could read _my_ mind, he asks, "What're _you_ thinking about?"

"A whole lot of things," I respond. "Why?"

"You've had a frown chiseled into your face pretty much all day—ever since your fight with Deacon this morning. Actually, even before then, now that I think about it." I try to plaster on a smile to prove him wrong, but he doesn't buy it, as he asks, "What's wrong?"

I sigh heavily. "Last night, when you asked me if I could get pregnant… You brought up something I never really thought of. Ever since I walked out of the vault, it never ran through my mind—the opportunity of being a mother again. But since you brought it up, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I mean, it'd be difficult—I don't even know how to begin raising a kid in a post-apocalyptic world. But, that still doesn't mean I wouldn't want to try. I think we'd be good parents, but…it can't happen. And I don't know how I feel about it."

He puts his hand on my elbow. "There's always kids in the Commonwealth we could adopt—unfortunately, parents are killed everyday."

"I know. But it's not the same. It's never been the same."

After a minute of silence, he asks, "So, that's what has you down? That's why you snapped at Deacon?"

When he puts it like that, it makes me feel even more guilty than I was earlier when the damage was initially done. I nod. "It's stupid. But I think so, yeah." I think about what's about to go down. "With all this," I motion around us, to the scribes, to Liberty Prime, "I'm officially picking a side. I'm going with the Brotherhood—one of the Railroad's worst enemies. I probably won't be able to see Deacon again. That means I can't apologize. I can't live with that—how can I?"

"But you'll be destroying the Institute—the number one enemy of the Railroad. Won't that count for something? I bet we'll see Deacon soon enough—and he'll have nothing to do but thank you for doing his dirty work. Cause if we're being honest here, that's what we're doing."

I take a deep breath. "You're probably right. Everything'll be fine."

Suddenly, Robert turns to look behind me, nodding his head, as if in greeting. I turn to find Maxson strolling up to us.

"Elder," I salute.

He nods back to Robert. "Paladin."

I ask, "May I ask what you're doing here, sir?"

"Taking a look at our fine spectacle of technology." He gestures to the giant robot which had become the focal point of the entire airport. "Also, I heard you were down here—I wished to speak with you."

"Oh?" I feel my face fold in confusion.

"Liberty Prime has been ready for a day or so now. But the scribes were unable to reach you through your ham radio.

"Most of us here in the Brotherhood found it would be fitting for you to lead the fight to the CIT ruins. Once there, Prime will takeover, until we reach the underground. It is then that your knowledge of the facility will be vital. None of us have been down there, so you'll have to guide us to where we need to go."

"I'm sorry, sir—'us?'"

"Yes. I assume your companion will be joining us. There will be a small army of both Knights and Paladins accompanying us as well. Obviously, you and I will be in the front line."

"I already figured I would be—but you? I wasn't expecting you to be joining us in the battle."

He makes a face, as if I should have already known. "I'm the Elder of East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel—I _have_ to join the fight. I will have no soldier of mine risking their own life while I lounge around the Prydwen, waiting for results. I must go out, and assume the soldier's position myself to ensure success."

I'm astonished at his words. "I must say, sir, I'm surprised you'll be in the line of duty. Isn't it important to keep the Elder alive?"

For some reason, my question makes him actually seem twenty years old, as he answers, "Uh… yes. But I would say it is far more important that the Institute does _not_ stay alive, Paladin."

"Couldn't agree more."

He peers out toward the west. "Dusk is approaching fast." He looks back at me. "Nighttime would be the best time to strike. Most will be asleep and never see it coming. Even once they wake, it will take time to adjust to the new threat imposed." He glances between Robert and I. "Prepare yourselves—we leave at 2100." He appears to try to spin on his heel and walk off, but almost falls over. Once recovered, he glances around to see if anyone besides us saw his clumsy attempt at basic movement. After looking at me with a slight angry, yet embarrassed face, he makes his way back to the Prydwen. I can't help my laughter—although I try to keep quiet due to his proximity.

"That was weird," Robert says, chuckling himself.

"Well, I suppose Danse was right," I say. He just looks confused. Explaining, "Danse had said that when we were at Listening Post Bravo, when I practically charged Maxson," he nods, remembering the story, "he said that I managed to 'intimidate' him—I believe that was his wording." I giggle. "Maybe Danse was right. Maybe I freak Maxson out now, because I challenged him. I bet he's not used to women half his size barging all up in his face like that."

"Probably not. Well, props to you then." He smiles.


	33. 32 Blending

_A/N: Everytime I read the title of this chapter, I think of Terry Crews in the movie_ Blended. _I imagine him singing how everyone's blending._

 _Just thought I'd share that tidbit._

* * *

32\. Blending

MacCready POV

 _Build Me Up From Bones_ by Sarah Jarosz

Wham, bam thank you, ma'am. It is done.

The Institute is no more.

The explosion was enormous—it could have taken out a whole community. And in truth, it did. I was just happy the relay site was on top of the Mass Fusion Building—plenty far for us to be unaffected by the blast.

Beth and I are now headed to the Prydwen in a Vertibird. Instead of riding on the edge of the aircraft—where she could fall to her death at any moment—she now sits in the copilot's chair. I don't blame her. She has been pretty distraught since last night when we charged the Institute.

* * *

 _Once Captain Laser-Beam was done burrowing into the ground, Beth and I dropped down into the hole with a team of Brotherhood soldiers. We were surprised that Maxson not only marched alongside Liberty Prime with us, but we were also surprised at his infiltration of the facility itself. It just proved he was actually serious about leading the fight._

 _Once underground, I was amazed at what I saw. The entire place was so white—so clean. There were trees and greenery all over the place—something I had never been used to, and probably never would be._

 _As Maxson had predicted, most people were asleep. Only a few humans were anywhere to be seen. We only encountered synths at first—and of all three generations. But then a few residents showed up, sporting Institute rifles like their synth counterparts. Then a few more residents. Eventually, the scientists were running around themselves, carrying makeshift weapons with them—things like alarm clocks for clobbering, and vases for chucking._

 _After all the threats were dealt with, we headed even lower, into the reactor room. Once the charge was placed and rigged, we went back to the teleporter room, where Ingram stood waiting with a surprise._

* * *

"What do you think he'll say to me?" Beth asks as we step off the parked Vertibird and onto the Prydwen's flight deck. "What if he doesn't like me?"

I've heard those words before—and this situation could easily be compared to the other one. I say something similar to what I said a while back. "He'd be crazy not to. Don't be silly—he'll love you."

We walk through the command deck and up the ladder, leading to the main deck. This is when Beth whips around to the sound of a young boy.

"Hey, Mom!" he says, happy to see her. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

Beth stares at the boy, not sure how to respond. He starts to look a bit worried, so I intervene. "Hey… Shaun."

I know it's not actually Shaun—it couldn't be from what she'd told me in the past. But, she decided she'd go ahead and bring him topside, like he wanted—maybe even raise him in place of the son she lost today. It's been weighing heavy on her mind, the decision of it.

"Hey," he smiles at me. "Thanks for taking me with you. I've always wanted to see the surface." He thinks for a moment. "Well, with the Institute gone… I guess I live here now." He doesn't seem too bothered by this however, as his smile continues. He looks back to Beth, who still hasn't managed to get her bearings together. "Father wanted me to give this to you. I haven't listened to it—that would have been rude of me." He hands her a holotape. "I'll go over there so you can listen to it." He walks toward the mess hall, leaving Beth and I near Danse's old quarters.

She still seems a bit dumbfounded, but she takes the holotape and plugs it into her Pip-Boy. Pressing play, we hear the voice of her sixty-year-old son, urging her to "adopt" this synth boy.

When the sound halts, and she takes the holotape out, this is when she makes up her mind.

* * *

 _"Please, Mom… Don't leave me here! I want to go with you!"_

 _I saw a boy in front of us—probably around the age of ten. He had blond hair, and blue eyes._ This must be… _I thought._

 _"Shaun," Beth uttered, shock colouring her features. "What're you doing here?"_

 _"I can't stay here!" he'd said, clearly upset over the chaos that had rattled the Institute. "I want to go with you," he repeated._

 _It looked like Beth had spent a while in thought, but eventually, she permitted. "Alright. Come with me."_

 _Shaun was surprised, to say the least. "Really? You mean it?" His eyebrows had shot straight up, like I'd seen Beth's do so many times._

 _"Yes, I mean it!" She looked around, to Ingram, to the teleporter. "Now, let's get out of here." She put one hand on Shaun's shoulder, the other around my back, and we all stepped into the round room of molecular packaging and distribution without a backward glance._

* * *

"Shaun." Beth strolls up to the synth boy, the carbon copy of her son. "Can we talk for a minute?"

He turns toward her. "What is it?"

"How would you like to go home with us?"

With this single question, I swear Shaun's jaw will fall off. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Beth counters.

"Well… You said to come with you, not live with you. I figured I would go live somewhere else. Maybe even here on this airship." He looks around our surroundings. "It's neat here."

"It is." Beth looks around like the boy did. "I work here, so I'd see you often anyway. But that's not enough for me." She kneels right in front of him. "You're my son—I need you home with me. Like how it was supposed to be back before the War."

He doesn't seem surprised at this statement, as if he knows the backstory behind her life— _their_ life, had it been as it should be.

He nods. "Okay, Mom. I'll come with you." They embrace lovingly. Shaun looks ecstatic. Beth looks joyful. Yet I can see the sadness in her eyes, wishing this was _actually_ her son.

* * *

 _"Should I tell him?" Beth wondered aloud as we hitched a ride back to the Prydwen._

 _"Tell who what?" I asked._

 _"Should I tell Shaun that he's not my son—that he's a synth?" The look in her eyes let me know she felt terrified. She hadn't had much time to think about it, before he was thrust into her life suddenly. She'd been silent for a while at this point—most likely thinking about the very thing she asked me._

 _"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. I'd thought for a few moments before continuing, "Maybe we should ask Danse. He knows what it's like to find out about being a synth. He can probably judge better than either of us." She nodded, deep in thought._

* * *

"Wait right here, Shaun. We'll be right back," I tell the boy as Beth and I step off the boat and start heading toward Danse's house.

She hasn't said much since we left the Prydwen. She sat on the bed, holding synth Shaun all the way home—the sad look still in her eyes. I wanted to talk with her, but figured if she felt like talking, she would.

Once we reach the house of the ex-Paladin, Beth surprises me by being the first one who knocks. When he opens the door, he sees the look in her eyes, and moves to the side, silently inviting us in.

"We need some help," Beth tells him once she's seated next to him on the couch, and I on his bench press across from them.

"Anything," he replies.

"I assume you heard what happened." She looks down to the floor, playing with her hands.

"I did. Felt it, too." He puts his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It had to be done." She looks up at him. "Anyway… I brought something home with me from the Institute… Some _one_." His brows raise in shock. "And that's what I need your help with."

"Beth, I'm confused."

She looks to me, as if needing help. I clear my throat and get started on the long story.

After a few minutes of explaining the situation, Danse looks more flabbergasted than I've ever seen him before.

"They made a kid?" He shakes his head. "Adults… I can fathom their want to an extent. But why a _kid?_ "

"I'm so sure it was all part of the experiment my offspring decided to put me through," Beth says.

"And you're asking me if you should tell him he's a synth or not?"

"Yes," she answers. "Should we take the risk now, and hope he comes to terms with it relatively quickly due to his mind being that of a kid's? Or should we hold off, and risk him learning later on, and probably not taking it very well?"

"Why are you asking me?" Danse asks, looking between Beth and I.

"Because," I start, "you know what it's like to have learned your true identity—you know how hard it was. We don't want to lie to him, but we don't know if telling him is a good idea either. You can judge it better than either of us could, and we want your input on it."

"Well, first of all—I appreciate it." He stands and retrieves a bottle of beer before settling back onto the couch. "But, to be honest, I'd have to know the kid better to judge if it would be a good idea or not."

Right at the end of his sentence, Beth stands and walks out of the house—going to get Shaun out of the boat house, would be my guess. A couple minutes later, she comes back, Shaun in tow.

"This is our friend, Danse. He used to work in the Brotherhood before… he retired." _Nice save,_ I think.

"Nice to meet you, sir." Shaun shakes Danse's hand, the child's looking fragile in comparison to the brooding man's.

"Good to meet you, too," Danse replies, seeming shocked at the child's politeness. "Beth—I mean, your mom—says you'll be living here?"

"That's the plan, sir. I haven't seen much of the island, but I like it so far. It seems really big."

"It is," Danse agrees. "Maybe your mom will let you go look around while we finish our chat?" He looks to Beth, who nods.

"Be careful, Shaun," she says. "And, if you would, don't go into the big house yet, okay?" Shaun seems confused, but ultimately nods and leaves the room. After he's gone for a few seconds, she looks to Danse, her eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"I think so," Danse says. "He needs to know."

* * *

 _After Beth had told Shaun he could live with us, we all headed to the mess hall for something to eat. The whole ordeal with the Institute left us all starving._

 _While they chatted about the past, about things unfamiliar to me due to their Institute nature, I let my mind wonder. I started thinking of what Duncan would think:_

 _Will he be okay with Shaun living with us? We already told him Beth's son wasn't going to._

 _He would—sort of, in a sense—have a brother now. He's always been used to just him and I, really. He adjusted rather quickly to Beth in our lives—but will he adjust to Shaun as well, or will he be jealous of him? He's never been the jealous type, but that doesn't mean he could suddenly_ become _jealous of him._

If _we told Shaun that he's a synth, would that at all affect their relationship? Will Duncan be afraid of him, or even grossed out by the fact, if we were to tell him, too?_

 _"Babe, you okay? Been awful quiet," Beth pulled me from my thoughts._

 _I smiled at her in encouragement. "I'm fine."_ But will Duncan be?

* * *

We decided before leaving Danse's house that it'd be best if I talked to Duncan while Beth tracked Shaun down. So, as she started heading toward Curie's house in search, I started toward our own, mentally preparing myself for whatever conversation lied ahead.

I walk into the foyer. "Duncan?"

"Up here!" he calls from his room. As I walk in, I see him sitting at his desk, writing something.

"What're you doing there, buddy?" I ask, moving in close to see his scrawl, neater than any near-six-year-old in the past managed to pull off.

"Writing a note to Mom." He looks up from his paper. "I heard the Institute explode. I want her to know that I'm really proud of her for being strong." He doesn't have a clue as to how much that would mean to her.

I smile at him, moving over to his bed and taking a seat. "She'd love that."

I then realize he has no idea about what happened—at all. He knows her son was taken before she left the vault. But he doesn't know what age he was supposed to be, what age he _was_. He doesn't even know her son was in the Institute to begin with. I sigh. _This is going to be a long afternoon._

"Hey, come over here and sit by me," I say, patting the bed next to me. He looks curious, but does as I say. "We need to talk about something—and it actually has to do with the Institute.

"Remember how I told you a little while back, how Beth—er, Mom… needed to go to the Institute really bad?" He nods, his brows showing his confusion. "Well, it was because her son was there." I see his face light up, knowing how bad that could be.

"Did he get taken, too?" Unfortunately, he knows all too well what those evil people used to do—taking human beings in the night as if they were pigs being stolen during the medieval times.

I nod. "Yeah, he did—he was just a baby. But then he grew up. He became a ten-year-old boy for a while. Then he kept growing, until he was _sixty_ years old. You know how old that is?"

"It's pretty old. Like, _old_ people old." I can't help a snicker.

"Yeah. Like old people old. Anyway," I continue. "He became the leader of the Institute, and he made a synth version of himself when he was ten-years-old. Remember meeting the synths that look like humans?"

He nods, smiling slightly. "Danse is a synth. And so is Curie."

"Mhmm. And Chief Harkness back in Rivet City. He's a synth, too."

He seems appalled. "Really?"

"Yeah. So, synths aren't all bad, huh?" He shakes his head. I take a deep breath. _You've lead up to it. Just say it now._ "So, Mom and I—when we went into the Institute—we saw the synth version of her son, the one that looks ten." He nods, not seeing where I'm going. "He wanted to come with us—to go with his mom." He's still nodding, unaware. "Duncan, we brought him home. And he's going to be living with us, instead of her real son. Her real son is dead now."

He looks down a little bit, processing, with his face scrunched in thought. "So… her son is going to be living with us? But he's not her real son—he's a synth—cause her real son died in the explosion?" _Quick learner._

"Yes…"

"So, he'll be moving into that empty room? Like you and Mom already planned?" I nod. "Okay." He seems fine with the situation. Honestly, I wasn't expecting this.

"It's okay with you?" I ask, making sure.

"Yeah. It'd be kinda like having a brother. I'd like to have a brother. I don't care if he's a synth—I like Danse and Curie a lot, and I know they're synths."

Now is my turn to be speechless. "Um, okay then." I remember the last detail. "Oh, yeah. Duncan, he… he doesn't know he's a synth yet. Mom and I were going to tell him later—we don't want to lie to him. So, when you meet him, don't mention it, 'kay?"

"Okay." He smiles at me, more enthusiasm than I anticipated. He's just happy to finally have a brother—something he'd never told me before.

"Have you wanted a brother for long?" I ask him.

"I—yeah. Living with Kate and Butch and Ellis… I got used to having a brother. Well, kind of. I thought it'd be neat if I could have a brother again. I just never said anything because I didn't know if you'd want me to have one…"

I think back to the conversation Beth and I had in bed the night before last. _Seems a lot longer ago than that. Twenty-four hour days can do that._ We'd both said we be interested in having at least one more kid—but that bubble was popped before it could rise too high. Having Shaun here at home turned out to be a good decision after all.

* * *

 _"Shaun?"_

 _"Yes?" He turned toward his mom, an inquisitive look on his face._

 _"I think we need to talk," Beth said as we finished up our meal in the Prydwen's mess hall._

 _"What is it, Mom?" He had set his bottle of Nuka-Cola down, giving her his undivided attention._

 _"There's something you should know about." She looked at me, gaining a quick smile of approval. "Back home—on Spectacle Island, where we live—there's a few other people living there." Shaun nodded, urging her to continue. "There's… well, there's someone we can't talk about at the moment. But he's nice, and I think you'll like him once you meet him. Then, there's a lady—a scientist from before the War. She's odd, but nice also. And then we have a young boy." She looked to me once more, unsure of how to proceed. I took this as hint and finished the statement._

 _"His name's Duncan, and he's my son—from a previous marriage. Your mom and I went to DC to pick him up shortly before the whole deal with the Institute tonight, so he lives with us on the island. I think you two will get along," I said more for Beth's benefit than Shaun's._

 _Neither Beth nor I had told Shaun we'd been together for a while at that point. From his body language, and the few things he said concerning the matter, I knew he knew I wasn't his father, and that his mother and I had been married for a bit. He didn't seem too worried or upset about it, so that was a plus._

 _"Oh, okay." He picked his soda back up and took a swig. Once his mouth was empty, he asked, "So, I have a stepbrother?" To Beth's nod, he responded, "That'll be neat. I used to play with Quentin, but he was kind of mean. I've never had a brother before." He smiled. "I can't wait to meet him."_

* * *

I can hear Beth and Shaun walking up to the house—their banter and laughter filling the air—and I'm glad she seems to be feeling better. Duncan looks at me, a bit nervous. "It'll be fine," I whisper to him.

The two of us leave his room and head down the hallway. Beth calls, "Robert?"

"Up here, hon," I call back. She comes up the steps by herself, having left Shaun in the living room. "He's ready," I tell her. " _We're_ ready." Duncan smiles up at her. As the three of us descend the stairs and walk into the living room, we're ready to face whatever is about to happen.

"Shaun," Beth motions for the boy to stand from his chair. "This is Duncan." She places her hand on the latter's shoulder—who surprisingly isn't hiding behind either one of us. "Duncan—this is Shaun. My son."

For a brief moment, she looks at me—her eyes betraying the sadness which has yet to leave since last night's events. Her expression also lets me know she's wondering if I'd told Duncan everything about Shaun or not. Acknowledging her worries, I nod my head, ever so slightly. Her eyes go round, her brows shooting up. I nod again, a bit bigger. She nods herself—knowing what I mean—looking down and allowing her face to fold in contemplation.

While she's busy wrapped up in thought, I'm watching Shaun and Duncan just about stare each other down. However, she snaps out of it just in time to witness what happens next.

Shaun steps forward a little, seemingly startling Duncan some. He then reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out a pack of gum, offering it to Duncan with a small, "Brothers?"

Duncan slowly reaches and takes the gum, a small smile forming on his face. He pockets it, and looks up at Shaun. "Brothers."


	34. 33 True Betrayal

33\. True Betrayal

Beth POV

Things have been going relatively good since the Institute's day of doom. Shaun got situated in his room, he and Duncan had hit it off really well, and we even got a positive response in telling him his true identity. When we told him that Curie and Danse were synths, too, he seemed kinda excited he wasn't alone. After that, he'd run off to visit with Danse, and actually spent the night with him. All in all, I couldn't have seen a better home life.

It's now two weeks later—two weeks of the Commonwealth being Institute-free. Two weeks, and I just now realized I have something I should probably do. So, off to Old North Church with Robert and myself.

"I wonder why we haven't seen Deacon," I muse aloud. "He was always around—somewhere, even if we couldn't see him, but he was there." _Hopefully I didn't scare him off when we fought the other week…_

"I'm not sure," he responds. "Maybe the Railroad is just too busy celebrating the end of the Institute and he hasn't had the time."

"Possibly," I agree with a chuckle. "He always struck me as the party animal type, anyway."

"Same. Guess we'll find out."

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Thunderbird_ by Hans Zimmer

We walked into the church and found nothing but silence. We continued into the corridor leading to the catacombs. Still nothing. Even going into HQ yielded us zilch. I saw the question on Beth's face: _Where are they?_ Finally, once we were in the escape tunnel—where we always met with Deacon—we found _some_ thing. Some _one._

In the near-darkness, "I was starting to wonder about you," followed by a hiccup. The voice lit a lantern, and Beth and I were faced by a very drunk-looking Deacon. "Hello, Beth."

She had stared at the bottle of rotgut in his hand, asking "What are you doing down here in the dark? And where is everyone else?"

"Moved back to Switchboard." He held his bottle out to us. "Want some? I have plenty." He gestured to the litter of empty bottles around him.

Her expression seemed uncomfortable to me. "Deacon… this isn't normal for you. What's going on?"

"You don't know?" He stood and threw his bottle against the wall six or seven feet from us, making her jump when it broke. "You _don't_ know?" He took a few unsteady steps toward her. I could tell she sensed a rising anger in him, so she took a few steps back for countermeasure.

"You took it from us," he continued on. "You took all those lives. You probably didn't even think about it. You were just so ready to murder your son, you didn't even think about all the other people who would die in the explosion." I saw her cringe when he said she murdered her son. I saw it. _I can't let this go on,_ I thought. He would have just kept going, rubbing more salt into the wound.

"Deacon," I said, cutting into his speech. "Beth did what had to be done. The Railroad wanted the Institute to burn, too—you can't deny it."

"You're right, MacCready." He turned his attention to me—for however long, I didn't know. "We did. But not with all those synths still in there. They deserved a chance." His gaze diverted back to Beth. "Not that you'd care about them anyway, right? If they're not your own personal nurse, bodyguard, or _son_ —why would you care about them? They're just synths, huh?"

He looked around the room, as if he was seeing things we couldn't—and with how many drinks he had had, who knows if he _wasn't_.

"You know what Barbara would think?" He stopped mid-search as he said this, as if he could see her. "Barbara would be disgusted with you—you didn't even give them a chance to fight.

"They took her from me without thinking about what it'd cost me. Now you took _all_ those synths without thinking about how it'd affect _us_. Tell you what. I'll make it fair." He went back to where he was sitting before we came in, and brought forth a shotgun, surprising both of us by aiming it toward me.

I had no idea what he was doing, so I just raised my hands, hoping to God his drunken judgement would have been better than most people when sober. I hoped he would decide to stop whatever he had planned.

He continued, "See this here shotgun?" He checked the chamber for shells. "This here is the gun that will even out the playing field. I got my lover taken from me because of synths. After today, you can say the same damn thing." He noticed his aim had gotten a bit off during his explanation. But once he realized this, he again pointed the end of the shotgun—maybe four feet away from me—directly at my face.

 _This is it,_ I thought. _I'll never see my little boy again. I'll never feel Beth's embrace. This isn't the way I wanted to go…_ I wouldn't look at him. If he wanted me dead, I wouldn't even give him the pleasure of eye contact. Over this, I couldn't dare look at Beth. I didn't want the last thing I saw being Beth's expression—I could only imagine it: scared as hell, possibly some anger mixed in, and both of these painted onto her features would end me far before Deacon had the chance to pull the trigger. I decided closing my eyes would be the best option at that point.

I then heard Deacon utter, "Say goodbye, Beth," before I heard him take a deep breath. Then the sound of a gunshot.

However, I felt… alive?

I heard a body drop, followed by Beth asking, "Are you okay?" I opened my eyes to a scene beyond words.

Beth had shot Deacon with a pistol she had hidden somewhere—and his body was lying crumpled on the ground, a few feet from me. I was too busy staring at him to look at her, too dumbstruck to speak. I nodded my head for her answer. "Good," she said, seeming slightly relieved. A couple seconds later, "He made me do it—I didn't have a choice."

I finally found my voice, and said, "I know. He kind of gave you an ultimatum."

"He didn't give me a choice," she had said around tears, to which I realized she must've been talking to herself, trying to convince herself that she had to do it.

"Beth…" I walked over to her, where she was still standing, staring at the body of one of her closest friends, who forced her to kill him. I wrapped my arms around her in comfort, and she just lost it. She started crying harder than I've ever seen her cry before—and that's saying something, considering we'd been through some tough stuff together.

I guided her toward the place Deacon was when we came in and sat down. We continued to sit there for the following span of time—probably close to an hour. Beth only looked up and around the room after she's dried her eyes out. They were red and looked far beyond sore, but the look in them had changed dramatically.

She was no longer saddened or unsure of what to do next—they were displaying a range of rage and determination.

She stood and started heading toward the exit. "Come on," she called. "We have a job to finish."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked her for the hundredth time. "It was only Deacon that attacked us. Does Desdemona or any of the others have to pay?"

"You heard Dea— …you heard him. He said 'us,' not 'me.' Sounded like the rest wanted me dead, too. Might as well beat them to it." She opened the door at the end of the pipe leading into Switchboard—the same door we came in with Deacon all that time ago—and stepped through, hell-bent on seeking revenge.

Apparently, Tinker Tom had managed to set up some more turrets, as the last batch had been destroyed during the Institute's raid that sent all the agents scattering. Beth was able to deactivate them before they could spot either of us, helping us sneak in more efficiently.

The first line of defense was composed of a couple Railroad agents she hadn't been introduced to. She disposed of them quickly and quietly. Second line, a couple more unnamed agents. Once we got to the third row however, Beth paused slightly, then ultimately put a bullet into Glory's head, directly after Drummer Boy's. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before we moved into the old HQ itself.

Carrington—the Railroad's resident butthole—was the first one to go once we made it inside. This had gotten the attention of the last two members of the faction.

"Beth!" Tom shouted when he saw Carrington go down. "What're you doing?"

"Putting an end to a threat," she replied, calmly as ever. She looked at Desdemona, raised her rifle, and killed Tom with no mercy.

Desdemona's eyes went wide, looking at the body of the man in front of her—the man that always took care of all the group's mechanical needs, dead.

She looked up at Beth, her eyes still round in bewilderment. "You're a monster…" she muttered. "I thought you were more civil than this."

"I could say the same thing about the entire Railroad, Dez," Beth responded, her voice cool and collect, giving it an extra vicious edge. "I always thought the Railroad was trying to make the Commonwealth a better place. But it occurred to me earlier that that wasn't your intent after all. All you guys cared about were synths—not the humans that needed help. Cause screw them, right?

"You see Tom and Carrington here in front of you. But you can't see Drummer Boy or Glory in the halls out there," she pointed in the direction we came in. "You can't see all the other dead agents I killed right under your nose. For me, they make up for all the people you let die out there, because you were too busy worrying about breathing machines.

"I'll admit I have synth friends. My son—he's a synth. But I don't care. At least I take care of humans, too.

"By the way… Deacon's dead." Dez's expression shifted into anger far more than it had at that point, even when Dr. Butthole and Thomas the Engineer were killed. "He forced my hand," Beth continued, ignoring the leader of the Railroad and her facial expression. "It's a shame, really. But I didn't pick this fight." She raised her rifle yet again and gave Desdemona a new orifice, right between the eyes.

"Babe!"

I turn around and look at Beth. "What?"

"Have you not heard me for like, the past few minutes?" she asks me. I look around and see we're still trekking in the city, on our way to Old North Church.

"Uh…" I scratch the back of my head. "I guess not. I'm sorry—I was daydreaming, I guess."

She laughs. "Okay. What were you thinking about?"

I point ahead of us. "How this meeting is going to go. It's been a while since we've seen any of them, and our last visit with Deacon was less than satisfactory."

"Yeah… I've been wondering, too. But I can't think about it too much or I start to get nervous, you know?"

"I do," I agree, thinking back to all of what my mind had cooked up a bit ago.

* * *

Beth POV

Walking down the halls of the catacombs feels weirder than I remembered. Were they always this empty?

Going through the door of the Railroad's HQ tells me why. It _is_ empty.

I walk up to the center of the room—the round meeting table, or whatever it is, to find a note. "Hey, Robert?" He looks up from his search of the room and walks over to me. "Look at this."

I hold the note out so both of us can read it:

 _Beth,_

 _I knew you were bound to show up sooner or later, and I didn't want to confuse you, so I left you this note._

 _The Railroad has disbanded. Over thirty years of being a group, losing agents, freeing synths—it's all over now. Our goal has been met… yet our dream was shattered. The Institute is no more, and we have you to thank. …And those Brotherhood goons, too. But all those synths that died… We don't have anything else to do, now that they're gone with it._

 _I don't even know where the rest of the Railroad has gone. I think Tom might have gone out west, to get a job in New Vegas or something—I'm not sure. Dez may have went down south. I heard she had family there._

 _Me, I hear you ask? Where am I going? I don't know where I'm headed, to be honest. Might head down to Rivet City and work as a guard there for a while—might roam around here for the rest of my life. I guess I'll go wherever the wind takes me._

 _I just hope you guys have a good life. Tell Robert hey for me, and to keep you safe. Ugh, who am I kidding? You know I'll always be around to watch your back from the shadows. That way Mayor Mungo doesn't have to do all of it—I don't think I trust him enough anyway (don't tell him I said that… or that I called him Mayor Mungo, ok?)._

 _Maybe I'll see you around Boston sometime, Bethany. I look forward to it._

 _-D_

* * *

 _A/N: I absolutely did not want to kill Deacon in-game. This was me living vicariously through writing so I wouldn't have to do so_ — _in one universe, at least._


	35. 34 Dad

34\. Dad

Beth POV

 _Hundred More Years_ by Francesca Battistelli

I was glad to find Deacon's note in the Railroad's old HQ yesterday. It made me feel better—gave me a better idea on how he felt when writing it. Just the fact that he called me Bethany and was making jokes told me he wasn't angry with me anymore—to which I was very relieved.

I'm reading it again while waiting for my food to finish cooking when Robert walks into the kitchen, having just woken up. He sees what I'm doing and asks, "Again? You've been eating fried Cram everyday for the past month, I swear." I just shrug as he sits down at the bar. "You never even cared for the stuff before—said you hated it."

"Well, not anymore. It always sounds good to me now." I transfer the fried blob of "food" that is my breakfast onto a plate and sit at the bar by him, digging in.

"So… I know it's a little late, considering we got married two and a half weeks ago, but… I have something for you," he starts. "It's upstairs. Can I show you when you're done?"

"Sure," I say around a bite. "Want some?" It didn't even go through my mind to make him any.

"Uh… no, thanks." He wrinkles his nose after just looking at it, making me laugh.

"It's not _that_ bad." I stand and move my now empty plate into the sink. "But, I think I should lay off it a bit. Think I'm starting to gain weight." I indicate my now full stomach.

Robert chuckles as he stands, coming over to kiss my forehead. "You look fine, dear." He starts to rummage around the fridge, finding something to eat—however, I don't know what he grabs, as I'm too busy running up the stairs and into the bathroom.

He must've been not too far behind me, as he now stands beside me, holding my hair as I violently vomit into the toilet. Just a couple retches, and the job is done. I point to a rag and he retrieves it, his face concerned as he hands it over. "What was that about?" he asks.

"I don't know. Might have been a bad can," I respond as I flush the contents of the entire can of Cram I had just consumed. "At least I feel better." I stand and rinse my mouth in the sink before turning to him. "Sorry. You wanted to show me something?"

He still looks concerned, but slightly more enthusiastic as he takes my hand and leads me into our room. "Ta da!" he says, extending his arms out toward the thing like a showcase rep.

On our bed now lies—not the old worn out blanket like when I woke up—but a horrid yellow comforter, smoothed out and made up nice. I hadn't even noticed it lying on the bed during my frantic trip into the bathroom. I think about the comforter Nate's parents bought for us, and how upset I was when I saw it was gone back in Sanctuary. _Did he remember that?_

"What do you think?" Robert asks me, pulling me from my thoughts. "Does it look like the one you and Nate had before?"

I wipe the single tear from my eye and I step forward and hug him. "It's just like it. I love it—so much. Thank you." I release him and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the material, and marveling at how soft it is, over two centuries later. "Where did you find this?" I ask him, looking up to him as he sits next to me.

"Fallon's. I saw it, remembered you talking about it back in Sanctuary, and swiped it. I'm just glad you didn't notice," he chuckles.

"Fallon's, huh?" I chuckle myself. "Looks like we both 'swiped' something for wedding gifts, then." I stand and move to the bureau, where I'd stashed my own present. Bringing it back to him, he gawks at it. "You keep winding your watch, so I took it was broken or something." He takes off his old watch, and replaces it with the new one.

"I love it." He leans over and gives me a kiss, long and loving, until we fall backward onto the bed, enveloped in each other's embrace. …Until Duncan walks in.

"Hey, Dad! Oh… Sorry." He walks back out, having seen us more intimate than he'd prefer.

I laugh as Robert gets up, chasing after the boy. "What is it, bud?" I hear him ask.

"Danse is gone!"

"What?" _What?!_ I think as I'm on the move, into the hallway.

"Shaun and I were playing near his house when we thought we'd go visit him. But he's not there."

The three of us headed north immediately, Shaun in tow, to investigate our missing friend. Robert checked for the boat while I looked around his house.

"The boat's gone," he says as he comes in the house.

"There aren't any notes or anything," I tell him. "I checked with Curie. She said she hasn't seen him in a few hours."

The four of us continue to stand in his house, wondering where the ex-Paladin could have gone, when Shaun says, "I'm worried for him, Mom. He told me he hasn't left the island since he got here after being exiled. What if a Brotherhood patrol finds him?" He looks up at me, worry clearly marked on his features.

"I'm sure he can handle himself, Shaun. He probably just went for a boat ride or something. He's bound to be feeling cooped up right about now." I see Robert looking at me from the corner of my eye. Although Shaun seems to have believed it, he knows me too well—he knows I'm worried to death on the inside. He decides to get our sons away from me before I blow.

"Hey, boys? How about you go help Curie in the garden for now? I know she'd love to have you with her. And that way time will pass quicker, so Danse will seem to be here faster."

Duncan agrees fully. "Okay. Come on, Shaun! I bet she'll let us eat a tato root!" The former grabs the latter's hand and they take off, leaving Robert and I in Danse's house alone. He looks to me again.

"Beth, I'm sure he's fine. He's a grown man."

"But what _if_ a Brotherhood patrol finds him? Maxson said they wouldn't hesitate to shoot him—to _kill_ him. I don't think I could handle losing him, Robert. He's the closest thing to a friend I have out here, now that Deacon went who-knows-where." I realize I'm near tears—something my body typically reserves for very trying times, not just for the _chance_ my friend _could_ be in danger.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," he repeats.

Being as stubborn as I am, I decide to take a seat on the couch and wait. "I'm not moving."

He sighs. "I'll take the rowboat out and see if he's around here, okay? So, don't you dare move," he says sarcastically as he leaves the room.

It seems like forever, just sitting here and waiting like this. But what else can I do? He didn't leave a note, he didn't tell anybody where he was going or what he was planning on doing. There _is_ nothing I can do but sit and wait for him to come back. Maybe.

I hear a motor in the distance. Popping up off the couch in a hurry, I glance out the window and see a boat— _our_ boat—pulling into the boathouse. I run out of his house and onto the deck by the boat in what seems to be a matter of seconds. And there—walking out of the cabin in some X-01 power armour—is Danse.

"Hey!" he greets. "Look what I found. It's in good condition, too. Hey, now!" He pretends to rub his arm where I struck him with my fist, as I'd moved onto the boat with him. "What was that for?"

"For not telling a soul where you were going! You had us all worried!" I feel the tears return, lining my lids in a blanket, threatening to escape. "I thought you were going to be hunted down by Maxson or something."

He ejects out of the power armour and comes closer to me. "What? You know I wouldn't go near anyone in the Brotherhood. I just went to the site where we find your house materials." He points behind him to a stack of wood, boxes of nails, and the like. "I thought the boys would like a treehouse or something." I snap my neck up at him.

"So, you went to find that stuff, and didn't want to tell anyone where you were going?" I can feel the lining of tears growing hotter—no longer sad, but on the angry side.

"You guys don't always tell me where you're going. Just because you have Robert with you doesn't mean I worry about you less. I know you can handle yourself, but still…" He looks at the floor of the boat. "I worry, too." Although Danse had never struck me as the affectionate type—and I can count the times we'd hugged on one hand—I find I don't care at the moment and step forward, wrapping my arms around him.

Robert had come home maybe an hour after Danse came back in the boat. He was almost as upset as I was he hadn't told us—okay, maybe not _nearly_ as upset.

We all moved the building materials near the front of our house, where it was planned the treehouse would be erected, in the cluster of trees about thirty or forty feet from the front door. About four days later, Shaun and Duncan proudly raised the "official" flag of their treehouse—an old Jangles the Moon Monkey blanket—signifying the building process was one of the past.

"They're going to love their 'Uncle' Danse for the rest of time now," I laugh as Robert and I lounge around in bed, too lazy to do anything yet this morning.

"They already do," he chuckles. "It's just gonna be an unbreakable bond now." He goes to get up. "Want some breakfast?"

"You know I'm always hungry." I wrap the yellow comforter around my shoulders, not ready to get up and relishing in the warmth.

"Yeah. What happened, eh? Used to be the other way around." He comes over and sits on my side of the bed, changing out of his pajama pants into some jeans. "Wanna try something else besides Cram, babe? You eat that stuff like there's no tomorrow."

"You know I like Cram for breakfast anymore. Just get used to it." I crawl out from under the warm comforter, changing into some day clothes myself before walking into the bathroom.

"I've told you, Beth!" he calls to me. "You need to stop drinking that much water before bed." I finish up my business and walk back out to see him smiling. "Or just that much water period. Isn't water poisoning a thing? Not even including rads?"

I chuckle. "Yes. But I'm pretty sure I'm not poisoned. I pee a lot more than I drink, so go figure." I walk out of the room, ahead of him. "C'mon! I'm starving."

* * *

It's been about a week since the boys' treehouse was built. They've practically lived in the thing ever since their fort's flag went up. And I've done next to nothing myself. I haven't gone to the airport to see if the Brotherhood needs me to do anything, I haven't been back to Diamond City. Shoot, I'm not even sure when I left the house last. I just haven't felt like doing anything. So, here I am, sitting on a lounger I'd built and placed on the roof of our house, reading my third book this week. I occasionally peer down to watch my boys play baseball on the ground.

"Nice catch, Shaun," I hear Robert say.

"Thanks, Dad."

A few weeks ago, Shaun had accidentally called him "Dad," and although it threw Robert for a small loop, he loved it right away, accepting the new title and taking it in stride. He instantly felt closer to the young boy. It was adorable, to be honest.

As I turn the page of today's read, I feel something weird. Almost like my stomach gurgling, but much lower. I feel it again as I set my book aside. Standing to head inside, I feel a small bout of nausea. _I've had this feeling before…_

I run down the large staircase we'd built leading to the roof and inside, bounding up the stairs and charge into the bathroom. But the nausea is gone once I reach the toilet. I look around for a mirror, which I'd yet to find on this side of the War after coming out of Vault 111. _Dammit._ I hear another pair of feet running in the house, going up the steps and coming into the bathroom also.

"Beth?" Robert asks. "Are you okay? I saw you take off like a bat out of hell…" I look up to his face, my thoughts traveling at a million miles an hour—running over the last few weeks. The last month and a half actually. "Beth, what's going on?" He stares in confusion at my crumpled face, clearly showing my puzzlement. "Are you okay?" he asks again, taking another step towards me. With my brows still knitted, I nod, to which he exhales in relief—but his confused expression remains. "Beth." It's not a question—he's telling me I need to answer him, to say _something._

"I'm… confused?" I manage as I walk to the bed, him on my tail. I sit down with him next to me. I take a deep breath, then it all becomes clear. I gasp.

"Beth, you need to tell me what's going on right now before I have a heart attack." His features still wear their muddled expression, although concern is fighting hard to replace it.

I turn toward him more, looking him in the eye. "Craving a food I've always hated, needing to pee all the time, the lethargy, the near-constant nausea, being moody—hell, I damn near cried because Danse went to get the boys materials for a _treehouse._ " I think back even further. "Jumping down Deacon's throat for a stupid reason…"

I can see it—the look in Robert's eyes tells me he knows what I'm getting at. He looks down past the Nuka-World logo on my t-shirt—to where I could have sworn I've been gaining weight. It's now his turn for his face to fold in bewilderment. He reaches a few inches toward me, but stops himself, and draws his hand back. I take his hand and place it on my stomach, my hand right next to his.

"I think I'm pregnant," I tell him. Right after saying this, I feel that flutter feeling I felt on the roof. Robert's eyes go wide, his entire face molded into utter surprise as he looks at me. I smile at him, feeling the waterworks coming.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _With Arms Wide Open_ by Creed

One second, Beth is on the roof, reading her book—the next, she's up and running down the stairs. "Be right back," I tell Duncan and Shaun as I toss them the ball, drop my mitt, and run into the house after her. I hear a dry heave in the bathroom and run to her as soon as possible. "Beth? Are you okay?" I ask her. "I saw you take off like a bat out of hell…" My words trail off as I see her expression—that of one immensely confused. She gazes up at me, looking almost worried. "Beth, what's going on?" Her expression hasn't shifted a single inch, her silence persists. "Are you okay?" I ask her again, wanting to know if something is wrong, and subconsciously taking a step toward her. The perplexed look continues through her nod. I sigh in relief, happy to know she's okay. But why is she still looking like something is wrong, off? "Beth," I say, letting her know this is not okay, that I need some kind of answer.

"I'm… confused?" She leaves the room and walks to the bed, sitting down on the edge. I'm right beside her, not about to let her go that easily.

"Beth, you need to tell me what's going on right now before I have a heart attack," I say as I feel my chest tighten in anxiety. Although I'm still unclear on what's happening, I'm starting to become more concerned for her than anything.

She turns to face me more head on, looking directly at me. "Craving a food I've always hated, needing to pee all the time, the lethargy, the near-constant nausea, being moody—hell, I damn near cried because Danse went to get the boys materials for a _treehouse._ Jumping down Deacon's throat for a stupid reason…" She glances down at the small space between us, to the comforter I gave her a week and a half ago.

I'm starting to connect all the dots as she looks back up, meeting my eyes once more. I can't help myself from gawking down at her belly, and even reaching toward it. But I stop myself—I'm not sure why. Because I'm afraid it's true, because I'll upset her? Either way, it doesn't matter as she grabs my hand and places it on her abdomen—her own hand touching mine as it sits alongside it.

"I think I'm pregnant." Not two seconds after she utters those four simple words—said by countless women for millennia—I feel something _move_ inside her. I know my face is bound to portray how I feel—extremely stupefied—but I couldn't care less. She smiles at me, tears lining her ducts.

I lean forward and bring her to me, hugging her with so much enthusiasm—which she was not expecting from the sound of her laugh. I start to feel wetness seeping into my shirt as tears starts to leak from my own eyes. Leaning back, I see her beautiful smile again, letting me know it'll all be okay. I take the hem of my shirt and wipe away the few tears before they can dribble down my cheeks. All the while, there's been a smile on my face, too.

"You're pregnant," I say, the words coming out in a breath of air, almost sounding like a laugh—a giddy laugh. "But… How is this possible? I mean, that conversation we had a little while back…"

She nods. "I know. I don't have a clue either. But…" She looks down to the focal point of the past several minutes. "I've been pregnant before and… it was like this—just like this. I don't know _how_ , but apparently, it happened. This is happening." She smiles again as I lean in and give her a kiss.

* * *

Beth and I called Curie for a house visit while the boys were still playing outside. She arrived and is now about to check Beth as she lies on her back on our bed.

"Oh, this is exciting," she says in her accent I've yet to get used to. "I've never examined a patient before."

"You've saved my life," Beth replies. "Does that not count?"

"That was not an examination— _this_ is an examination. What is it you are wanting me to look at?" Curie asks. Beth raises her t-shirt, revealing what she had thought was extra weight this whole time—I now look at the perfectly shaped bump in a different light, grinning about it.

"This," Beth points to the growing baby. "I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant—and I want to know if it's okay, and maybe how far I am."

"You are expecting!" Curie says, excitedly looking at Beth and myself. "Oh, how wonderful—congratulations!"

"Thanks," I tell her.

It took Curie a painfully long time to actually start _looking_ at Beth. I understood she was happy for us, and for "the opportunity to see a fetus grow," as she put it, but I was glad she finally got around to the examination part of her house call.

She'd asked if Beth was having any swelling, hot flashes—the norm for an expectant mother. She felt her tummy, asking if the applied pressure made her uncomfortable—Beth could tell this was making me a little upset, but she calmed me down rather quickly when she put her hand on mine. Finally, Curie came to the end of her visit.

"I am no midwife, madame—but, I am knowledgeable enough to tell you that your pregnancy is going well so far. I would say that you are around twelve weeks."

"Twelve?" I spit out. "How could we have not known for twelve weeks?"

"There are records of women delivering, having not known about their pregnancies to begin with. They just suddenly had a baby." _I can't even fathom that…_

"That probably would've happened to us, babe," Beth jokes, "if the baby hadn't started kicking earlier." I chuckle with her. She looks back to the synth woman. "Thanks, Curie. I appreciate it."

"It was no problem, madame! Thank _you_ —for letting me see something so miraculous first-hand." She grabs her lab coat we'd given her and leaves the room.

Although I'm ecstatic, I feel overwhelmed, nervous. _What if the pregnancy doesn't go well? Has she drank too much, been exposed to too much radiation? What about afterwards? I think we're good parents cause we already have Duncan and Shaun. But what if this one doesn't go as well? …How are the boys gonna take it?_

"Robert." I look to Beth, who hasn't moved since Curie left. "If you don't stop frowning, it's going to be etched into your skin for the rest of your life." I loosen the wrinkles in my face, replacing them with a smile. "It's going to be okay, babe," she continues. " _You're_ going to be okay."

"It's not me I'm worried about so much," I tell her. "What if you get hurt? What if the baby's not normal? What if—?"

She cuts me off. " _Everything's_ going to be okay. 'Worrying does not take away tomorrow's troubles—it takes away today's peace.' I read that in a book once." She smiles at me. "So, stop worrying. Okay?"

I sigh. "Okay."


	36. 35 Sex Disagreements

35\. Sex Disagreements

Beth POV

 _The Sound of Silence_ by Disturbed

"What if it's a girl?" Robert asks me as he loads the fortnight's clothes in the laundry basket. He's been insistent on him doing most of the work around the house ever since we found out about my being pregnant a few weeks ago.

"It's a boy," I tell him for the hundredth time. "I just know. It's a mother's instinct. I was right with Shaun when I had him, too."

"Well, you're wrong this time," he says, walking out the back door and heading to the makeshift laundry room in the shed up north—I don't know how we'd actually managed to find a working washer dryer set. I can't help but laugh at his stubbornness, wondering if he just wants a girl or if he actually feels that strongly about it.

Both Shaun and Duncan took the news well—they seemed pretty excited, to be honest. I asked what they thought the gender was, but didn't really get an answer—they made it clear they were just happy to have another sibling, not even caring if it be brother or sister.

However, neither Robert, Curie, the boys, nor myself have told Danse yet. I haven't personally seen him since before finding out—whenever I darn near flipped a table at his absence. But for some reason, I feel more anxious about telling him than I did when Duncan and Shaun found out.

Robert walks back into the living room where I sit. "Guess who I ran into."

"On the giant metropolis which is none other than Spectacle Island, who knows." I laugh. "Danse?" I guess.

"Bingo. He asked me how you're doing—said he hasn't seen you in a while, and was starting to get worried. Especially since he's seen Curie come over here a few times in the last few weeks." He gives me a face. "We need to tell him."

"I know, I know. I just… I don't know how."

"Like how you told me would be good. Just don't drag it out so much as to give the man an ulcer," he chuckles.

"Did he say he was going to be busy today?"

"He said he was planning on doing some reps with his weights, but that's it."

"Okay." My mind starts going off on how I should even bring it up.

"Why are you so nervous?" I look up to see his grin. _He knows me too well._

"I don't know," I tell him honestly. "Just am. But, he's gonna find out sooner or later. Might as well tell him now." I stand and suddenly realize I'm cold. "What'd you do with that blanket that was on the bed?"

"Uh, it's on the chair?" He points behind me, where I'd just been.

"Oh, yeah. Don't laugh at me!" I tell him as he chuckles and I reach for the worn cloth. "Hormones can make you go dingy."

"No. Hormones _are_ making you dingy," he clarifies as we walk out the front door, the blanket draped over my shoulders like some sort of blanket queen.

* * *

"Come in," I hear Danse say after knocking on the door. Once inside, I see—and hear—he's doing exactly what he said he'd be doing. He completes a few more bench presses and sits up, clearly a bit winded. "Well, hey, Tiny Bull. Haven't seen you in a minute." _So, the name did stick around after all._

I sigh and smile. "Hey, Danse. Yeah, it's been a bit. What's up?" Robert goes to his cabinet and helps himself to a beer, then sits on the couch, propping his feet up. Danse all but ignores him.

"Not a whole bunch. Been talking with Shaun a lot. It was definitely a good idea to tell him."

"Couldn't agree more. He seems to have really gotten comfortable with it."

"I knew with his being a kid, he wouldn't really care about being a synth." He grabs a rag and wipes the thin sheen of sweat off his face.

"To be honest," I start, "I think having you and Curie here has helped him a ton."

After a minute of nobody talking, Danse says, "So, I'm assuming this isn't a social visit. Haven't seen you out of the house in weeks." He stands and retrieves a beer himself, offering me one.

"No, thanks," I tell him, much to his surprise—I've never declined the drinks he's offered. "Well," I begin. "There's a reason for that. And it's actually the reason we're here." He glances over at Robert who hasn't said a word since walking in. He just continues to sip his beer, peering out the window to the water on the north side of the house.

He starts to look worried. "Is something wrong?" He looks back to me. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I assure him. "Well, I can't say _nothing…_ "

"Beth, you're stretching it out," Robert warns, still looking out the window—not even bothering to explain. I sigh. _He's right._

"Danse. Don't freak out, okay?" His brows furrow in confusion, but at least they'd lost their worried edge.

Although I'm still cold, I take the blanket off my frame and hand it to Robert, exposing my rapidly growing baby bump. Danse's eyes don't go nearly as round as I thought they would, but shock _is_ quite evident in his features.

"Wh—?" he gets out, but stops, earning a quick, knowing look from Robert and myself. "When—how far are you?"

"According to Curie, fifteen weeks roughly. The boys are excited." I smile down at what I _just know_ —despite Robert's thoughts—is a boy. "He thinks it's a girl," I point to the dad-to-be, "but you can't argue with a mother's instincts." I look pointedly at Robert. "It's a boy." He just rolls his eyes.

All the while, Danse has been just looking at me with a face I can't fathom—until he speaks. "So, I'm the last one to know…" I register his expression as one of dejection, finally. "He knows. Obviously," he points to Robert. "Shaun and Duncan know. Even _Curie_ knows…" He sits back down on his bench press. "And after fifteen weeks… I just learned it myself."

"To be fair, Curie only knows because I wanted to make sure everything was going okay. And I kind of can't hide it from our sons. We only learned about it a few weeks—maybe a month?—ago."

"And it didn't occur to you to tell me?" He finishes his beer and chucks it into the bin—a good twelve or so feet away.

Robert stands and throws his bottle away also, then wordlessly leaves the house—allowing Danse and I to finish the conversation privately, as I'm assuming he feels the tension, too. _He took the blanket with him,_ I think as my mind contemplates sending a shiver down my spine.

"I just didn't know how you'd take it, so I put it off… I'm sorry," I say earnestly.

"Why'd you put it off? How'd you think I'd take it?" He continues to stare at me as I move to the couch and sit—my feet too sore to stand anymore.

"I don't know," I say, feeling that feeling you get behind your eyes when your ducts are preparing for tears—the bloated sinus feeling. I look back up at him, as my eyes had drifted to the floor. "I'm sorry," I repeat, those damned tears making their unwanted appearance anyway. "I know I should have told you sooner." Danse realizes I really am upset—as those last words nearly came out with a bunch of snot—and moves next to me on the couch.

"Hey, don't cry…" he tells me, rubbing circles on my back.

"I can't stop right now even if I wanted to," I think I managed to say in English. "Hormones have me screwed up." My mind finally decides to make me shiver—or rather shudder, the shake was so violent.

"Are you cold?" he asks, to which I nod. He stands and brings the blanket from his own bed to me, wrapping it around my shoulders, crowning me as the blanket queen once more. "Beth, I'm sorry I was upset. It was selfish of me. But you do know I'm just worried, right?" I shake my head.

"Well," he starts. "There's been many good women who's died during childbirth. Really, the only one that comes to mind is James' wife. Shame, too—she was a brilliant scientist. Her daughter—the reason for Catherine's untimely demise—at least finished her mother's project."

All this sounds familiar somehow. "What was her daughter's name?"

"Kate, I believe. I never met the woman, but she was with the Brotherhood for a while, and was deemed the Lone Wanderer by that crazy radio DJ, Three Dog, back in the Capital Wasteland."

"Kate's mom died in childbirth?"

"Yes. Have you heard of her?" he asks.

"I've _met_ her," I tell him. "She kept Duncan until Robert found the cure for his disease." He seemed to not like her just on the premise she "killed" her mother, so I add in, "She's a lovely woman—has a husband and son of her own."

Danse seems a bit shocked, but happily so. "Well… alright then." His face returns to its expression before the Kate tangent. "But you do understand why I reacted so negatively? I don't want you thinking—"

"It's fine," I assure. "I understand your concern. But I _have_ had a child before. Plus, we have Curie here to monitor, and possibly deliver once the time comes. It'll all work out okay." I laugh at how I had to say nearly the same thing to Robert countless times. "What is it with you guys? Nervous for the pregnant lady? Chill out." I stand and make for the door—suddenly remembering his bedclothes around me still. I hand it to him—much to his reluctance—and head to the house, ready to help Robert make dinner, _if only he'd let me._

* * *

MacCready POV

Beth wanted to go to the Prydwen and tell Maxson how she wouldn't be around for a while—but me, being protective, told her no, and that I'd go for her. She just sighed and kicked back further in her chair, knowing she couldn't do anything to change my mind. So, I took the boat, and off to the airship with me.

Once onboard, and giving the Vertibird just all the fingers in my mind, I went on to the observation deck to see the head honcho. "Elder," I address, all too familiar with the formal greeting nowadays.

He turns and looks at me, not sure how to greet me. Finally, he just says, "Civilian." He clears his throat. "How is our Paladin? I see she's not with you."

"No, sir." I decide continuing with the formality would be the best way to stay on his good side. After seeing Prime, and knowing he could sick that on me at any time for looking at him wrong… well, let's just say I don't want to piss him off. Not that I'd admit it or anything. "She's fine—at home, resting. She was going to come herself but I convinced her to allow me to run this errand."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"She wanted to tell you she won't be coming aboard the Prydwen anytime soon—or that she would not be able to complete any Brotherhood tasks."

His bushy brows raise on his forehead like two caterpillars. "What is the reasoning behind this? Is she okay?" he repeats himself, but in different wording.

"She's fine," I assure him. "Just out of commission for a while." _Because of me,_ I think with a double edged meaning. Continuing on, "We have our two sons to take care of now." _Would she want me to tell him? Ah, screw it._ "And another on the way. I can't let her endanger herself and the baby by doing tasks for the Brotherhood—and after the whole deal with the Institute, I think she's earned some time off. A break, maternity leave—call it what you may." _Would she think that was too presumptuous of me to talk to him like that? Welp, too late now._

"She's expecting?" he asks, his tone not really a question. His expression tells me he's a little upset about it. I don't know why—he has no reason to be. He has other people to do his work for him—and it's not even like it's his anyway. Then I realize it must be because he knows it's _mine._ In his eyes, I'm just a civilian after all.

"Yes, she is," I finally answer. "And _we_ couldn't be any more pleased."

I turn to walk away only to be stopped by him saying, "If she's going to be absent for an extended length of time, perhaps it would interest you to take her place until she can return?"

I'm flabbergasted. _Did he just insult me then offer me a job?_ I turn to face him again. "No, thank you. I'd rather be with my family—my two sons and my pregnant wife. You understand—I must get back to them now. Good day." I don't see how he could understand, though. I've never heard of a Lady Maxson. _Whatever._

* * *

Beth POV

 _Hands To Myself_ by Selena Gomez

 _Rhiannon_ by Fleetwood Mac

"He said what?" I can't believe my own ears. "Maxson offered you to take my place in the Brotherhood until further notice?" I can't help but to laugh, laying my book down between the arm of the chair and my leg.

"Yeah, that's what he said. Oh. Also, he wanted me to tell you this: since he hasn't seen you since the Institute blew up, he wanted me to say that he's promoted you to Sentinel. He felt after the job you did, you deserve it—and that that's the highest rank possible, really. You're not too far under him, from the sounds of things."

I feel my whole face go round as he says this. "Sentinel?" I take a deep breath—which is getting harder to do everyday. "Wow. A mom _and_ a Sentinel. Impressive." I smile.

"Sentinel smentinel," he says. "You'll always be Elder in my book." He gives me a kiss as he walks to the fridge.

"Because I'm older than you?" I giggle.

"Not necessarily," he chuckles. "Although you could take it that way if you wanted." He looks back at me from the kitchen. "I just meant because you're like the leader of this house." I give him a dubious expression.

Moving on from the subject, I ask him, "So, what do you want for your birthday?"

"My birthday?" he asks while rummaging through the fridge for leftovers.

"Yes, your birthday," I say sarcastically. Normally, "You told me a while back that your birthday is on June thirtieth, right?" He nods. "Well, today's the twenty-seventh. So, what do you want?"

"You already got me my watch from Fallon's," he says, giving up on the fridge and moving to the pantry.

"That wasn't for your birthday, that was a wedding gift. You need something else." I stand and head toward the kitchen myself, tired of seeing him struggle to find something to eat.

He stops his search and looks at me. "Honestly, all I need is to know I have you. And this little _girl_." He bends down and kisses the ever present, ever growing bulge in my stomach. "That's all I need."

I sigh as he turns back to the shelf. "Boy," I correct.

"I can be just as stubborn as you," he says as he picks up a can of potato crisps. "I'm always gonna say it's a girl, until proven otherwise."

"Well, then it's going to be another long five months," I tell him, grabbing the can from him. "Now, let me cook something. I'm about to go crazy with you doing everything around here."

"But—"

"Nope. I'm making stew, and there's nothing you can do about it." I grab some carrots, tatos, and razorgrain flour from their respective places, and start making the now-familiar dish.

 _I've really missed this,_ I think as I start to smell the aroma of the ingredients blending together.

* * *

On the night before Robert's birthday, I made a cake with the boys—well… it was _kind_ of a cake. I tried to emulate the ingredients I used to make homemade cakes with—but of course, with everything different, it wasn't quite the same. Everybody said it tasted great—Danse especially. With his being in the Brotherhood for most of his life, I don't think he's ever tasted cake, or even celebrated birthdays, so he enjoyed the "party" more than anyone, I think—although he wouldn't dare fess up to it.

Since it was a spur of the moment get together, nobody had any gifts, to which Robert assured was fine. He said he was never used to the idea of presents on people's birthdays anyway, so not to worry about it. I still felt bad, but he told me what he'd said the other day: that me and his baby girl was good enough for him. Again, I said it was a boy, but he just ignored me. I know he heard me, but he just kept looking the other way, pretending he didn't.

It's not until the following morning—his actual birthday—I'm able to give him something worthwhile.

* * *

 _I haven't taken a real shower like this in so long,_ I think as I wash the suds from my hair. Feeling the length of it in my hands, I continue, _Need to get this cut soon._ I never liked long hair—nothing past my shoulders.

As our valuable finds kept piling up, I couldn't believe my eyes at how much stuff still worked after the bombs fell. And, yet again, I was surprised to find a fully functional shower in a house in the remote parts of Boston.

I can't see with my back turned, but I feel a sudden burst of cold air, and hear, "Have room for one more?" I don't really answer—I just smile and welcome Robert's arms as they wrap around me, his lips as they leave a scorching kiss on the side of my neck. I turn to face him, leaving a trail of my own kisses down his chest. He puts his hand under my chin to raise it, kissing me deeply and passionately, only to stop and pull away. "Sorry," he apologizes. "It's hard not to—you're just really sexy pregnant, you know that?" He acts like he's about to get out of the shower when I grab his wrist.

"Then, do something about it," I challenge, giving him what he's called an impish grin.

"I… no. I don't want to hurt the baby." He goes to leave again.

"You won't," I say as I grab his hand, stopping him. "Look at it this way: I can finally give you your birthday gift: me. People in my era used to have birthday sex all the time. That, and _I really_ want you right now. You kinda got me going there." He looks divided, tortured even. "Oh, Robert. I _know_ you." I glance around until I find what I'm looking for. "C'mon, don't make me drop the soap."

He chuckles. After a few seconds of deliberation, "You don't have to do that. If you say it's fine, then I trust you. No need to seduce me further."

I continue to look at him with my unmoving eyes as I resume the devilish smile. Knocking the soap off the shelf, I utter with feigned innocence, "Oops."


	37. 36 Not a Nuclear Family

_A/N: Includes flashbacks._

* * *

36\. Not a Nuclear Family

Beth POV

 _Everybody Wants To Rule The World_ by Lorde

I'm currently on top of the roof of my house, looking out toward the west, toward the city. Toward the giant crater which now makes up the CIT ruins. What _was_ the Institute. It's been almost eleven weeks—how time flies.

Although everything tends to happen quickly _as_ it's happening, looking back to those memories makes it seem as if everything happened slowly. The memories have a slowed down quality to them—as if I'm watching them again on film instead of in my mind.

 _"Please, Mom… Don't leave me here! I want to go with you!"_ I hear Shaun cry in my distance thoughts. He was so distraught, so upset… nothing like now. I can hear him and Duncan playing in his room now—safe, happy. Even though he knows who he really is, I haven't seen it drag him down. He's taken it in stride—not having to pretend he's Duncan's brother, my son, or even Robert's son. _No, he doesn't have to pretend,_ I think. _He just is._

* * *

 _"Behind you!" I heard one of the Brotherhood soldiers call out. I glanced behind me to see one of the synthetic gorillas the Institute scientists had been working on. I noticed it was coming right toward me, so I moved out of the way quickly, spinning around and shooting it in the chest before it could come any closer with its sharp teeth._

 _Robert was right beside me, wielding his own gun, and taking out as many of the Institute's population as the soldiers around us._ He may be young, but he's a _great_ shot _, I had thought with pride._ _As I moved my way toward the door, I noticed most of my military brothers and sisters had already left. I was about to ask Robert why he stayed behind instead of going with the front line, but realized I already knew the answer: he wouldn't dare leave me behind._

 _Once we were out in the center of the facility, he and I dodged our way to the elevator—the giant glass casing, which turned out to actually be bullet-proof. We took a breather on the short journey, found our way to the Director's quarters, and I came across more than just the terminal I had in mind._

 _"Hello, Mother."_

 _I turned to see my son, my_ real _son, lying in the medical bed not twenty feet from me. He looked worse than the last time I saw him. "Hello, Shaun."_

 _I could see the disappointment in his eyes, the lust for my death along with his own. "I wanted, so much, for us to have a normal life together, Mother," he told me. "The Institute could have given us just that. But you are so hell-bent on destroying the only good thing in the Commonwealth—the only good thing in_ my _life. I fail to see why you long for our fall so much."_

 _"The only good thing…" I mused, nearly chuckling with a dark tone. "_ This _is not what a normal life is, Shaun. A normal life is what we could have had two centuries ago. A normal life is not living underground, afraid of living_ on _the planet we were given as a superior species. A normal life is not tampering with other people's lives, playing God like some kind of sociopath. Shaun." I took a deep breath. "This is not—_ would _not have been—a normal life. And_ I _fail to see how you view it that way." I went to his terminal and turned off the security lockdown. As I was about to walk out the door, he stopped me._

 _"Mother." I gazed upon his face, which was no longer hiding his anger. "I will not be alive for much longer—I understand this. But just know that in my last few minutes of life, you will be dead to me." He turned his face away. "For destroying humanity's only hope of a future—this is what has, and what_ will _, condemn you." He glanced in my direction, but refused to meet my eyees. "Now, leave me—and do what you think you must."_

 _I walked out of the Director's quarters and saw Robert where he stood outside the door, keeping watch. He looked at me with a touch of concern colouring his expression. I just walked past him, heading toward the reactor room. "He's dead to me, too," I uttered too quietly for him to hear me._

* * *

"What are you doing up here?" I hear Robert ask behind me. "I've been looking all over for you." He sits down on the side of the lounger next to my legs, a couple Nuka-Colas in his hands.

As he hands one to me, I ask him, "You ever do something that you know you should regret, but you don't?" He looks at me confusedly, so I nod my head toward the CIT rubble. He sets his bottle down as I take a drink from mine.

He twists to look me head-on. "You did what you had to, so you shouldn't regret it. You've saved countless lives, Beth." As he says this, I feel baby MacCready kick—and even though it didn't really hurt, I can't help a grimace.

"It's fine. He can probably tell I'm upset."

"Yeah, _she_ probably can." His concerned face switches to one of smugness.

I just roll my eyes, and say, "Nineteen weeks. He can hear things now, including my voice—and maybe even yours." Robert's face perks up.

Moving closer, he sticks his ear against my bulge, smiling slightly. As he looks up at me, he says, "Hey, there. How's Daddy's little girl doing?"

"You're gonna confuse him," I tell him, earning an exhausted sidelong glance and a hush.

"All warm and cozy in there?" He lifts his head up and rubs my stomach, smiling down at our growing child. This apparently excited him, as he kicks again—or rather moves, far less violent than his last movement. Robert and I look to each other, a smile lighting up both of our faces.

* * *

 _"What happened in there?" Robert asked me as we walked to the reactor room._

 _"Nothing. I disabled the lockdown and left," I told him, despite the probability of his knowing my lie._

 _"You were in there an awful long time just to disable a lockdown." He looked at me with an eyebrow raised._ He knows, _I thought, but found I didn't care._

 _"Darn thing wouldn't work with me." I looked around and was happy to see Maxson ten or so feet from me—able to be a subject change. "Elder," I said. "The lockdown has been deactivated. We're able to get to the core now."_

 _"Excellent. Get that charge to it, Paladin. We'll stay here and fend off any remaining threats. Get moving!"_

 _I ran into the reactor room, and was again glad to see that all synths and coursers alike had been dealt with already. After opening the door to the core itself, I walked inside and planted the charge—big enough to blow the entire city to smithereens if used incorrectly. According to Ingram anyway._

 _"We have to get back to Ingram," I said, speaking of which. "She can get us out of here with the teleporter. Ready to be dematerialized?" I asked Robert with a small grin._

 _"Uh, yeah. Not really—but it's fine. It worked for you, so why not?" I could tell he was nervous, so I chuckled at him._

* * *

"Hey, Mom." I look to Shaun, who is on the floor of the living room, playing with Duncan. "Again, thanks for making that cake yesterday. It was really good." He smiles at me as I place some brahmin meat on a plate, prepared to be grilled on the back patio.

"It was no problem, dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

It was Shaun's birthday yesterday, and even though everybody just had cake for Robert's birthday not even a month ago, I thought he needed one, too. And with Duncan's birthday coming up next month, I see a trend starting: cake every month throughout the summer—June 30th, July 24th, and August 24th.

I take the plate out to the back, and am almost jumpscared by Robert greeting me. "Jeez, Beth. It's just me—calm down." He laughs at me—apparently the face I'm wearing is funny looking.

"Not my fault," I tell him. "You shouldn't try to scare me like that."

"I didn't have to try." He chuckles again, but is trying his best to keep a straight face.

Randomly, I ask, "You know what? I've been thinking." I lay the slab of meat onto the old grill Danse surprised us with as a wedding gift a little while back. "You're so dead set on this baby being a girl. So," I turn to him. "I've been thinking, like I said, that if this baby _is_ a girl, you can name her. _But,_ " I pause for dramatic effect. "If this baby is a boy—and I _know_ he is— _I_ get to name him." He stares at me with a smug sort of look. "Does that sound fair?"

"Oh, it sounds fair," he retorts. "But, do you actually trust me to name her something nice? Because I know I'm right, I'll get to name her. Do you trust me not to name her something stupid?" He grins, challenging me.

I sigh. "It's a part of the deal, right? If it's a girl—and it's not—then that's all a part of it. If it is a girl, and you decide to name her… oh, I don't know—Jackhammer, or… Chair Leg, then that's just going to be her name, huh?" I take a deep breath. "Sure, I won't like it, but hey. I was the one that proposed this offer. So, I'll just have to live with it. And so will she, so nothing too extreme, if I can ask that much."

He stands and comes over to the grill, coming close to me. "What about Coffee Mug? Is that too extreme?"

" _I_ think so."

"And what about Vanilla Ice Cream?"

"Well, there's nothing wrong with the food. But whatever." I shrug.

"Uh-huh." With his smug, challenging grin still in position, he kisses me on the cheek and goes in the house. As I'm turning my attention back to dinner cooking, he yells, "What about Roberta Jr.?!"

"Oh, hush!" I call back, chuckling.

* * *

 _"That lever will activate the charge," Maxson told me, as he indicated a box sitting atop a crate—a few switches, a couple lights, and one button on the top, just waiting to be pressed._

 _I glanced over to my side—to Robert and the synth version of my ten-year-old son._ Is this what I want? _I asked myself for the thousandth time._ Yes. Shaun's dead to me, _I reminded myself—thinking back to what he had said to me not a half hour earlier. I placed my hand upon the button, hesitating only a second before pressing it down, pressing down the finality of my decision._

 _The explosion was so massive, so great, I couldn't help but to be reminded of October 23, 2077. This bomb was—of course—nowhere near as big, but with it having been much closer, it still sort of terrified me to witness._

 _It was probably the first big nuke both Robert and Shaun had seen—and their expressions seemed to have correlated with my assumption. Their faces were both shocked and scared, yet mesmerized by the way the mushroom cloud formed, the way the smoke and dust swirled around each other in an intricate dance of mass destruction. And although I'd seen a nuclear bomb fall in the past, I came to realize that their expressions mirrored my own—I was shocked, scared, and mesmerized all at the same time as well._

 _Once the dust settled, and the smoke dissipated, Ingram told me she would take Shaun—the synth boy—to the Prydwen and have his attire changed from evidence of the Institute to some actual clothing suited for the Commonwealth. This gave Robert and I some time away from the rest of the Brotherhood—some time for me to gather my thoughts and feelings before again having to speak with my superior officers. I'd told Ingram to send a Vertibird to Goodneighbor—or at least near it—to pick us up once we got there. She agreed and took off in her own, straight off the Mass Fusion Building roof itself—Maxson and a few other soldiers with her._

* * *

MacCready POV

"What about Ruby? We could call her Rue." Ever since dinner, Beth and I have been talking about names for the baby. She still—of course—thinks it's a boy, although I just have a feeling she's wrong. _We'll find out in about twenty-one weeks,_ she told me.

I say "we" have been talking about names, but I know it's pretty much just been me doing the talking. All the while, she's just been looking at me with a look I can't fathom—a look of dreaminess is the best way I can describe it—but she's trying to hide it behind a face of annoyance. Although I know that's not really how she feels. "Beth, you've been looking at me like that all night," I tell her as she sets her book down on the nightstand. "Why?"

She faces me more on the bed. "Why have I been looking at you like I'm annoyed?" she asks.

"Sure." _That's not what I'm aiming for, but let's hear it._

"Maybe cause you're thinking it's a girl so much—maybe I find it a tad annoying due to you being wrong."

"You don't think you insisting on it being a boy _isn't?_ " I come back. "But that's not what I meant. I mean, why do you look happy everytime I talk about a different name idea?"

She sighs, knowing I know her through and through. "Because, I'm happy you're so into this. Like, you're wanting it to be a girl _so_ bad, and I think that's kinda cute." She smiles despite the feigned annoyance still in her eyes. "Even Nate wasn't this excited when I was pregnant with Shaun. He was happy, sure. But nothing like you are now." She finally drops her act, and looks legitimately happy. She smiles at me with lack of all reservation—she's beaming.

I smile back at her, getting an idea. "How about you help me name her, then?"

"Uh, no. That's your job, Mr. We're-Having-A-Daughter. I still get to name our _son_ , okay? You have at it." Her smile turns mock-like, prompting me to keep at it.

"Okay, then," I say, my grin just as arrogant. "What about Charlotte?"

She just pulls the comforter around her shoulders more, facing the other direction. "Goodnight, Robert." Although she sighs to show her "irritation," I can still hear the grin in her voice.


	38. 37 The Trip

37\. The Trip

Beth POV

 _We'll Meet Again_ by The Ink Spots

Robert and Duncan took off this morning to head to the Capital Wasteland. They still have some things there near Arefu that they've been wanting to pick up. So, I called in a few favours I had with the Brotherhood and got them roundtrip airfare to and from DC. He was dead set on keeping the boat here anyway, in case I needed to go somewhere. And no matter how much I told him I doubted I'd even leave the house—and doubted leaving the island even more so—he insisted.

So, now it's just Shaun and myself. Robert promised me they'd be back before Duncan's birthday—he knows how important it is to me, him being here for his first birthday with him in my life. _That gives them a little over two weeks._

And even though he couldn't do anything—even if he had to—it makes me nervous, his being gone while I'm pregnant. Fretting thoughts keep nagging the back of my mind: _What if something happens to him or Duncan while they're gone? What if something happens to the_ baby _while they're gone? Or what if a random group of Raiders or super mutants somehow get on the island? How are me and Shaun supposed to fend them off?_ Of course, I know Danse is here, and wouldn't dare let anything bad happen on his watch—but still, I worry.

"Mom, you know what Dad would say?" Shaun grabs my attention as he walks into the living room where I sit.

"What would Dad say?" I ask back, setting down my cup of coffee.

"He'd tell you to stop frowning before it's set there permanently." He shows me a lopsided grin, happy he's noticed such a small thing between his parents. And, I have to admit, I'm impressed, too.

"It's been all of… three months," I calculate quickly, "and how many times have you had to hear that to remember it?" He chuckles quietly and sits next to me—the same armchair Danse sat in when he first arrived here. Shaun looks far more suited for the piece of furniture—what with his being much smaller, and appearing not so big as to break the friggin' thing.

"What've you got there?" I ask him, seeing some kind of reading material.

He holds out a magazine. "A copy of _Tesla Science_."

"Why on earth are you reading that? Seems like an eleven-year-old would rather read _Grognak_ or something like that," I say as I look at him funny.

He just chuckles. "Being raised in the Institute—I can't help it. Everybody around me was always interested in science stuff, so I got into it a little bit myself. When I was able…"

"What do you mean, 'when you were able?'" He sets his read down.

"Most of the time, they had me in a room in Advanced Systems. You ever go into that department on one of your trips down there?" I nod my head. "You ever see a room with a bed, table, chair, and had glass walls?" I nod again. "That was my room." He sighs and looks down a little bit. "I rarely got to leave or do anything. Most of the time they were doing other stuff, or studying me. They swiped my memory, from the sounds of things, so I shouldn't remember as much as I do—but I still remember some, despite them not wanting me to.

"I remember Dr. Li talking with Father about emotional stimuli? I think." He looks confused, then resumes. "I also remember Dr. Filmore coming to visit a couple times. She was nice." He sighs again, knowing she's gone now.

"Did they… do anything to you?" I ask. "Like, experiments?"

"Yes." He glances up. "I don't remember a lot of them, but what I do…" He looks back down. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm sorry."

"Do _not_ be sorry, Shaun. None of that—none of this—is your fault. You have no reason to be apologizing. If anyone… it should be me. I was the one that let all this happen in the first place." Although, at the time, it felt like I couldn't do anything, I still feel guilty. Nate had called it "survivor's guilt" in the past. He said many soldiers who had fought alongside him would feel guilt after being one of—if not, _the_ —only surviving member of their squad. Shaun cuts into my thoughts.

"Mom, none of this was on you. I know my dad did everything he could to save me—well, _Father_ anyway. But still. You couldn't do anything from that pod you were in. So, don't blame yourself, okay?" Since we're within touching distance of each other, he reaches over and puts his hand on my arm. "I just want you to know that I still love you." He smiles at me, encouraging me to leave it where it is: in the past.

It's been a week since my husband and son has left. A small part of me wonders why they're still gone, but most of me—the logical side of me—tells me to relax. _They're probably taking their time, gathering their things, saying goodbye to their home of who knows how long. Maybe they even stopped by to see Kate and them._ I find that this thought makes me happy, and I can't wait to hear their stories from the trip.

At the moment, I sit on Danse's couch, with Shaun next to me, watching the former clean his laser rifle while talking about whatever. But, naturally, with my twenty-one-week pregnant belly, Danse is curious and has questions—which Shaun is soaking up like a sponge.

"So, what's it like—having something so rapidly expanding inside you?" From the sounds of things, not very many Brotherhood soldiers had children until they were retired from duty or whatnot. So, I can understand his curiosity.

"It's a trip," I tell him with a chuckle. "I can feel him moving all the time, so I know he's gonna be an active kid." I look to my eleven-year-old. "Just like this one—he moved constantly, and loved to keep his elbow in my ribs." I chuckle again. "At least this one lets me breathe better."

"'He,'" Danse says with a grin. "So, you're still thinking it's a boy. Robert still planning on it being a girl?"

"Ugh. Yes," I sigh, making him laugh. Laughing myself, "It's fine. I'll just hate to see his disappointment when D-Day comes and he's wrong." I chuckle again, thinking of my preposition a few weeks ago. "I have so much faith in these motherly instincts, that I told him if he is actually a she, _he_ can name her."

His grin fades slightly. "Do you trust him with the whole naming thing? I mean, what if he names her something dumb just to prove a point?"

"Well, if he does get to name a her, then I told him it's his thing. But, to be honest here, I'm pretty sure if it is a girl, he'll name her something nice." I think about what we talked about the night of my proposing the naming offer. "He's really into this. Like, most dads are like, 'meh.' But not him—he's super excited, I can tell. It makes me happy, knowing he's looking forward to an addition. Cause two apparently wasn't enough." I pat Shaun's knee.

Another week has gone by—closer to a week and a half actually. It's now the twenty-third of August—one day before Duncan's birthday. Robert knew I wanted them here for the celebration, but they're still gone, and my mind has all but gone berserk. Shaun continues to assure me that they're fine, and that they'll be back soon—but me, being a worrywart, it doesn't help that much. Through the past two and a half weeks, I've tried to keep a normal schedule—occupying myself with cooking, cleaning, laundry, and the like. Otherwise, I would have gone crazy with anxiety.

Although Shaun is a little big to be tucked into bed or read bedtime stories, we both have really enjoyed it while Robert and Duncan have been gone—it's helped us tons in the bonding department.

 _"It was many and many a year ago,_

 _In a kingdom by the sea,_

 _That a maiden there lived whom you may know_

 _By the name of Annabel Lee;_

 _And this maiden she lived with no other thought_

 _Than to love and be loved by me._

 _I was a child and she was a child,_

 _In this kingdom by the sea,_

 _But we loved with a love that was more than love—_

 _I and my Annabel Lee—_

 _With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven_

 _Coveted her and me."_

"Mom?"

"Yes, Shaun?" I drop the book out of my face to see his own confused expression.

"Why did Dad leave his Poe collection here? I thought he would have taken it with him."

"I'm not sure," I answer honestly. "Maybe it's because he wouldn't have had time to read it, or maybe he knew in the back of his head that I'd want to while he was gone." I shrug and lift the book back up, hopefully just in time.

But, no. He saw before I could continue the work. "Mom, why are you crying? Is this poem sad?"

I set the book down—it lying flat due to the spine being so worn out. Even if it closed, I could easily find _Annabel Lee_ again, since Robert had dog-eared the page a while back—it being one of his favourites.

"Yes," I tell him. "The speaker and his love—Annabel Lee—were separated far too soon. They loved each other very much, but she died suddenly, and it broke his heart." I sniffle.

Even though Shaun hasn't had nearly the same amount of time as Robert has to get to know me, he can still tell that that isn't all of my reasoning. "You miss Dad," he says—simply a statement, not a question.

"I miss Dad a lot," I confess. "We haven't been apart this long—ever. And I haven't been able to handle it that well. I'm sorry, Shaun." I wipe my nose of the sleeve of my pajama top.

Although he looks really comfortable, he climbs out from under his blankets and wraps his arms around me. "They'll be home soon. Just you see, Mom—everything will be okay."

* * *

I went to bed a few hours ago, but I haven't been able to sleep much. Which pretty much sums up the past fortnight: sleepless. With Shaun's room being across the hall and down a bit, I can hear his snores, light and quiet, but present all the same. _At least he can rest,_ I think with gratitude. _He needs all the rest he can get at his age._

I roll over onto my left side, facing the door into the bedroom, and casually throw my leg over the side of the bed. A part of my sleep deprivation may have a bit to do with my being around twenty-four-weeks now. Since the baby boy inside me continues to grow, I've learned to stop sleeping on my stomach—although, I really miss it. So, I try my best to kinda sleep on my stomach, but it sort of ends up being mostly on my side.

I hear a rustle come from the other side of the hall, and figure Shaun woke up to get a drink of water or something. At around the same time, I feel a sudden wave of near exhaustion, and close my eyes, drifting lightly into unconsciousness. However, seemingly seconds later, I feel the other side of the bed—the side where Robert sleeps, and I'm currently facing away from—move. It was just a little bit, but despite my fatigue, I'm pretty sure I didn't make it up in my head.

Ever since they took off to DC, I've been sleeping with a switchblade under my pillow—just in case. Since my hand is close to my pillow already, I move it slowly and carefully—with as much stealth as possible—and grab the handle of it, preparing to press the button at a moment's notice.

 _Is this it?_ I think. _Did Raiders finally figure out we're out here?_ I think about the time Robert told me he was surprised I hadn't been raped or murdered before we met. _Is it finally happening?_ I grip the handle tighter, still pretending to be asleep. I feel an arm wrap around me and decide it's time to act.

I press the button of the switchblade, popping the knife out, and whip around as fast as a pregnant woman can. Whoever—or whatever—is behind me gets the blade stuck in their arm, causing them to cry out. Only then, do I understand what's going on.

"What the hell, Beth?!" Robert yells, as I turn the light of my Pip-Boy on, illuminating his face, contorted in pain due to the blade sticking out of his bicep.

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" I jump up—or at least try to without falling over—and dash into the bathroom, grabbing a Stimpak and some gauze out of the first aid kit. Sitting next to him on the bed, I get ready to pull out the knife and inject the Stimpak within seconds of each other. After the bloody switchblade is laying on some of the gauze on the bed, and the Stimpak is used, I wrap his arm with some of the bandaging—to reduce the bleeding as much as possible while the miracle injection does its job.

After a minute, my heart has finally calmed down enough to speak. "What are you doing here?"

He looks up at me from his arm. "Uh, I live here?"

"No, really?" I sigh, thinking sarcasm isn't the best way to communicate right now. "I meant, why did you get home this late?"

"I needed to be back with Duncan before morning, or you'd have my head," he chuckles. "I didn't forget." He looks down to baby MacCready, noticing my rubbing him. "She get pretty excited from all that?"

"Yeah," I say as I try to smooth out the last kick, rubbing small circles over him, trying to calm him down.

"I'm sorry," he tells me. Coming closer to him, he apologizes again. "I'm sorry your mom scared you, baby girl. I'll try to calm her down, okay?" He kisses my stomach, then stretches up to give me a kiss. "Let's try that again." He grins. "Honey, I'm home."

I chuckle, trying to be quiet as I remember Shaun across the hall. "Is Duncan asleep?" I ask.

"I put him to bed before you stabbed me, so he should be. Unless you woke them both up just now." I give him a dirty look. "What? That's the truth: you just stabbed me, Beth." I take the gauze off to reveal an angry, small pink line—the only evidence from the little "accident."

"I know…" I stand and throw the used Stimpak and gauze away in the bathroom. "Sorry about that. A little paranoid from lack of sleep, I guess."

He looks concerned. "Why have you not been sleeping?"

I point to the baby. "Him. And the fact I had no way to know you were okay. Kinda had me freaked out. Just ask Shaun—he saw."

His concerned face turns to one of sympathy, guilt even. "I didn't think it'd be that rough on you." He stands and changes into his pajamas as I move to my own side again.

"I didn't think so, either. But it was. At least it's over now." He climbs back onto the bed, settling down and motioning for me to come to him. I scoot over, resting my head in the crook of his arm—where I've missed being for so long, _too_ long. "I love you," I tell him.

"I love you, too." He kisses the top of my head and situates the comforter on top of us. "Now, get some rest, okay?" I close my eyes and pass out within seconds, knowing he's finally home.

* * *

"You know, I was surprised when you told me you haven't been sleeping well," Robert tells me over breakfast. "Before we left, you were sleeping _really_ hard."

"No, I wasn't," I scoff.

"Oh, yeah? I'm pretty sure a Vertibird could have crashed on the roof, and you'd sleep right through it." He chuckles, "Like a rock, Beth."

"Uh-huh." I grab our plates and take them to the sink to wash later.

"You know what?" he asks as he stands and moves over to the sink, beginning to wash our dishes for me. "She sure has grown in the past two weeks."

"He sure has," I correct. "But, it's been closer to three than two. What'd you guys do that took so long?"

He chuckles. "Duncan's probably the one to tell it. Duncan!" he calls, loud enough for the boy to hear from upstairs. A little bit later, we hear the sound of both his and Shaun's feet running down the hallway and jumping off the stairs.

"What?" As suspected, Shaun is right on Duncan's tail. _They've been together all morning. They must've really missed each other._

Their dad stops his dish washing and looks to Duncan for a bit. "Tell Mom and Shaun what we did in DC."

The boy gets an excited look in his eyes, and from his expression, I can tell he's about to launch into an elaborate story. As he clears his throat, I sit down at the dining room table—which actually turned out to be a good size after all. Not too big like I was thinking.

"So, we went to Rivet City, then Megaton, then Arefu," he starts. "In Rivet City, we talked with Chief Harkness for a little while, and we told him what you did with the Institute—"

"He said thanks, by the way," Robert cuts in as he sits in the chair next to me. This earns an annoyed look from his son, but then he just continues.

"Cause he's a synth, he really appreciated it. And then we ate some food at Gary's… art place. Um… Gallery! That's it."

"You mean Gary's Galley?" Robert laughs.

"Same thing!" Duncan sighs and moves on. "Then we went to Megaton and saw Kate and Ellis and Butch, and stayed there for a few nights. I was so happy to see them."

"They were happy to see you, too, bud."

"Dad, stop interrupting!" Everyone—minus the annoyed child—laughs at his expression. "Anyway, like I said, we stayed in Megaton for a few days, which was nice. Then, we went back home." He thinks for a second. "Well… what _used_ to be home, cause we live here now—so this is home. Anyway, we got all our stuff that we could carry, and threw some of the stuff out that we didn't want anymore. We thanked the people that live in Arefu for being nice neighbors to us all those years, then pretty much came back here." He smiles at us, proud of his storytelling.

"Thanks for telling them for me, Duncan." Robert hugs the boy and ushers he and Shaun into the living room. "Now give us some space if you boys want cake tonight." They look excited and run back up the stairs, ready to resume whatever they were doing before.

* * *

"Happy Birthday, Duncan!" everybody says in sync. Danse, Curie, Shaun, Robert, and myself are all gathered around the kitchen island, looking down to the little boy who is thinking about his wish before blowing out the candles.

By candles, I _literally_ mean candles—or one candle actually. We'd stuck a single, normal sized candle—used for lighting rooms and whatnot—on top of the cake. Duncan finishes his wish and blows out said candle, smiling at everyone as we all cheer for him.

"I can't believe you're six," I tell him as I slice cake for everyone.

"I know. I'm starting to feel old." He takes his plate of cake and walks off, missing the ginormous smile on my face caused by his comment.

As Danse grabs his own piece, he accuses, "You're going to make me lose my edge, Beth—with all this cake you've been making, I'm bound to start gaining." Despite his complaint, he takes his own plate and joins the birthday boy at the dining room table.

I hadn't seen much of Curie since the last birthday party we had a month ago, so when she comes up to me, instead of taking a plate of the cake I tried my best to match chocolate flavour, she asks me all sorts of questions like: how's the baby, am I having any complications, does coitus hurt more than before? She got a strange look from all the adults in the room for that last one.

Once Danse and Curie had finished their cake and again wished Duncan a happy birthday, they left, leaving us four to our own devices. Duncan and Shaun both went up to their rooms to read something, so Robert and I are left downstairs alone in the living room.

"So," I begin, "did you leave your Poe collection here on purpose, or did you just forget it?"

He looks up from the very book I speak of. "Um…" He places his finger where he left off and closes it. "I left it on purpose. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious. Shaun got me wondering about it. I told him either you wouldn't have had the time to read it while you were gone so you just left it, or maybe you left it here for me—I wasn't sure." He smiles. "What?"

"How do you know me so well?"

"What do you mean?" I smile back at him, clueless.

"Of course I left it here for you. I knew I was going to be gone a while, and I felt like—since you know it's my favourite—it might have made you feel like I was still here in some way. Did you use it?" he asks, to which I laugh. "You did, didn't you?"

"Almost everynight," I confess. "I used it quite a bit for bedtime stories for Shaun." He raises his eyebrows. "Yeah," I chuckle. "I actually read _Annabel Lee_ to him last night before we went to bed. You know, before you snuck in behind me and I stabbed you for being an intruder." He laughs—the pink line on his arm far gone by now.

"Yeah, I do know." He smiles again, raising the book to show me what he's reading. "It _is_ one of my favourites." He raises it back to his face, reading aloud.

 _"But our love it was stronger by far than the love_

 _Of those who were older than we—_

 _Of many far wiser than we—_

 _And neither the angels in Heaven above_

 _Nor the demons down under the sea_

 _Can ever dissever my soul from the soul_

 _Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

 _For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams_

 _Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

 _And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes_

 _Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

 _And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_

 _Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,_

 _In her sepulcher there by the sea—_

 _In her tomb by the sounding sea."_

He looks back up at me, the smile still on his face. "'My darling, my darling—my life and my bride.'" He chuckles lightly. "Sounds about right to me."

* * *

 _A/N: I tried my best to upload this chapter_ — _the poem parts specifically_ — _as I had them in my Word documents. Poems aren't written in this format, and it bugs me. Sorry if it bugs you, too. Nothing I could do about it, unfortunately._


	39. 38 Visit to Another Life

38\. Visit to Another Life

MacCready POV

 _Mother_ by Florence + the Machine

A couple weeks after getting back from DC and surprising the crap out of my wife—so much so as to make her stab me in the arm—she and I decided to visit Sanctuary Hills with the boys. Although Shaun knows that Nate isn't exactly his father, he has still been wanting to visit the spot where Beth and I had laid her late husband to rest. Beth also said she was curious how Gravy Boat and Co. were doing, and that she wouldn't be getting any smaller—if we're to make the trip, it'd have to be soon, as baby MacCready was due in roughly fourteen and a half weeks at the time.

Add a few days, and we're all ready to go—ready to take the boat as far as the Tucker Memorial Bridge and make the rest of the trip on foot. Although he's not too happy about it, Duncan carries the combat knife Beth gave him a while back, and as she steers the boat along its path, I hand Shaun a 10mm pistol—the same pistol she had taken from the security guard's skeleton back before leaving Vault 111. As he holds it in his hands, he looks a bit nervous, scared even.

"No need to freak out, Shaun. It only bites if you let it." I show him where the casing comes out, where the safety is. He still looks nervous, but tries to shove it down and just carry the gun, knowing it'd help both his mother and my peace of mind.

We parked the boat underneath the bridge about an hour ago, and are now making our way toward the small community. We briefly make a stop in Lexington—luckily, no hostiles seem to be around—and take a small rest, since the boys aren't used to traveling for so long. Even the Corvega Assembly Plant seems to be void of Raiders today. Beth makes mention that this was the first place she killed a person out here.

"Yeah, there was only one Raider on duty out here." She points to the general area they were in. "Unfortunately, they spotted me, and I had no other choice but to kill them. It took several days for me to get over it—but not completely. Took a few _weeks_ to fully recover from it." She points to the pistol holstered in the waist of Shaun's pant. "That was actually the gun I used. So, yes—it does work." She smiles at the boy, hoping to make him feel better about having it with him.

We continue along one of the roads leading to the "houses of the future," as they were known back before the War. We see an old diner a little ways off, but decide to go around it, not fully trusting strange buildings. Next comes Concord—the place Beth and I found the same people we're going to see. I remember we had Deacon with us when we took out all those Raiders. _Man, it has been a while,_ I think.

I'm busy talking with Beth as we come up to the Red Rocket just outside Sanctuary, so I don't see the threat until it's lunging at Duncan—a single mole rat. I see it attacking him, it seeming to be happening in slow motion, yet I don't have time to reach for my weapon. I hear two rounds fire from a gun, and see the body of the rodent fall lifeless.

Glancing up, I see Shaun holding the 10mm pistol we'd given him this morning. His eyes are round, his breathing heavy. And sure enough, two casings lie on the ground next to his feet as his finger still lays on the trigger.

"Duncan!" Beth sees exactly what I've noticed and runs over to him, kneeling—not quite fast, but in a hurry—and hugs the boy.

He then spins and sees what could have hurt him just seconds ago. "You saved me, Shaun." He goes up to him and gives him a hug. "Thank you, brother."

As Beth stands and Duncan goes over to the now dead animal, Shaun puts the safety back on the pistol and places it back in the waist of his pants. I grab the short legs of the mole rat and prepare to take it to Sanctuary with us—hey, food is food. Beth holds onto Duncan's hand, happy to have him safe, so Shaun and I walk together in front of them.

After we come close to the bridge leading into the neighborhood of the past, I tell him, "You did good. How long before you shot it did you see this thing?" I indicate the rodent I have with me.

"I'm not sure. A few seconds maybe? It all went so fast—I just didn't want him to get hurt." He looks down, seeming ashamed by his action of heroism.

"Hey. You did good," I repeat. "You have good reflexes. You're a natural, as far as I'm concerned." He perks up a little bit, but still seems embarrassed. "Would you want to train a little more, get even better at it?" He shrugs. "Well, for your first time ever firing a gun, you did amazing. I encourage you to keep it up—it comes in handy out here."

By now we've arrived near the first few houses. This is when I see Gravy Boat coming up to us.

"Hey, folks. Looking for a place to stay—" He stops short when he recognizes me. "Well, long time, no see, merc retiree. I didn't recognize you at first. Where's that guy you were with, and your girlfriend?"

I point behind me, where Beth is still catching up with Duncan—maybe ten or so feet back. "Wife, actually."

Preston looks to Beth, sees her ever expanding belly, and does a double take. He looks to Duncan, then to Shaun, and finally at me. "Has it been that long?" he wonders out loud, apparently taking the boys' ages as a sign of how long it's been since they came from Concord.

I laugh. "Not really. Shaun here is Beth's from another life—Duncan," I point to the youngest of the two, finally having caught up with us, "is mine. This one here," I glance down at Beth, "is about negative fourteen weeks old." She laughs at my joke. "So, no. It hasn't been that long."

He smiles at us. "Glad to hear there's a happy story going on somewhere in the world. What about your other friend—is he okay?"

"Deacon's fine," Beth responds, placing one hand on her hip like pregnant women do for back relief. "Took off out of the Commonwealth a little while back. You might be familiar with the time there was an enormous boom in Cambridge—it was around then."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that, and hope he's well. But, yes. I am familiar with that 'enormous boom in Cambridge,' as you put it. Who did that? Was it the Brotherhood?"

I chuckle. "Yes. And you'll never guess who led the siege."

He shakes his head with a small grin on his face. "You did. Never imagined you as the military type." I shake my head, silently telling him he's wrong—a small grin of my own, my pride showing through. He just looks to Beth with wide eyes. "No."

"Yes," I reply. "It was her." I pat his back with my free hand—as one still is holding onto the dead mole rat—and move past him, going further into town. "Ten points to Hufflepuff," I say, deeming him to one of the houses Beth had told me about in the past. Not only that, but we were actually very fortunate to come across the entire set in an old bookstore one time.

"No way," I hear him say again as the four of us leave him behind near the bridge. Eventually, he catches up and welcomes us into the town of sorts.

"It's not much, but it's home. At least we have a place to lay our heads, grow our food." He looks around to the houses. "Which one was yours, if you don't mind me asking?"

Beth points to the one in the middle of the street, on the north side. "That one."

"Nobody's done a thing to it since we got here. If you want it, consider it yours again—we'll leave it alone."

"I appreciate it," she says, offering him a small smile.

"Anything for you. You helped us in Concord, and again with the Institute." He glances toward the yellow house across the street—the house we stayed in when we came up here before. "I'll be back after a little while. Make yourselves at home." He turns and leaves, leaving us to do whatever.

Beth leads us into the blue house, her old home. She shows Duncan and Shaun around the living spaces. _She has a different life now. She's moved on,_ I think as I smile at her, happy to see she isn't upset like she was last time. She easily goes through the house, explaining what it was like to listen to holotapes sent by your family across the country, or how easy it was to just hop in a car and go anywhere you liked. She shows us where she used to sit in the backyard when she had a day off work, and where she used to hide all her chocolate from Nate. This transitions right into Shaun and her taking off up the hill to see his grave. Although I suggest Duncan and I stay here to give them some privacy, she insists that we come along. So, again, the four of us go out onto the street and head west a bit, before darting off toward the vault.

Back when we'd first come here, I asked her if she wanted to bury Nate in the backyard of their home, but she told me that not only was he too heavy for her to carry—as she wanted to do all the work—but she wanted him on top of the hill so he could see Sanctuary better, see the booming town it was bound to become one day.

She leads the way, Shaun on her tail, and Duncan and I hanging back a bit. As she walks between the vault entrance and the security booth with the button to descend, I see the marker, signifying Nate's resting place. Of course, some grass has grown up on the semi-fresh dirt, so it's a bit hard to find at first—for me. However, she goes right to it—no need to look around. She looks to Shaun, then back to the small mound of earth.

"This is Nate, your father," she tells the boy. "He was a war vet, just like my cousin was. Just like his _own_ father was.

"He had brown eyes, so it's a miracle you have my blue eyes, as brown is typically dominant. His hair was a warm black colour—so, again, lucky you ended up with blond like me. He was just all around a really nice guy. And I think you would have really liked him."

She turns back to the grave and starts talking to her late husband. "I found Shaun, Nate. He wasn't exactly what I was looking for—but I found him. He's… gone now, too. But I have a new, _better_ son." She puts her arm around the boy she speaks of. "I couldn't have asked for a better Shaun. You'd love him so much—he takes so much after you, you have no idea how crazy that is to me." I hear her sniffle lightly—and apparently, so does Shaun, because he puts his arm around her and pats her back. She looks down to him then back at me. "Hormones," she says through a smile. "I'm just so happy, because despite what I started out with, I have all this—all you guys. And I'm just so overwhelmed right now." She wiggles out of Shaun's arm and tries her best to sit on the ground. However, she kind of struggles, so I go over and help her down. "Thanks," she tells me.

So she doesn't feel alone, the three of us also sit on the patchy grass, surrounding her while she cries her happiness out. Several minutes later, she asks me to help her stand so we can head back into town. And, as he did on our way in earlier, Preston meets us on the road.

"Hey. I was wondering where you took off to," he says as he looks up the hill, curious why we were coming from the vault.

"We buried her husband up there a while back. Just showing their son his dad's resting place." I motion to Shaun, who is smiling up at the man.

"Oh," Preston says, looking back up the hill, seeing it in a new sense. "We'll leave him be, then. …I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am."

"Please. Just Beth," she replies. "And it's okay now. I have a new family to be thankful for—and oh, how I am." She smiles at Duncan and myself, not even bothering to look down to baby MacCready while she absently rubs her hand over our baby girl.

"Well… I'm glad. Um, listen. Can I talk with you about something?" Colonel Beef Gravy seems a bit nervous as he says this.

"Sure."

"I believe when we first met, I said how I was part of the Commonwealth Minutemen. Am I just making that up, or did I actually say that?"

"No, you did. I remember cause I related it back to America's colonial times."

"Oh, yeah," he laughs. "Guess I kinda remember that now." He wrings the back of his neck. "Well, anyway. Since you helped us get out of Concord in one piece, and you were the one who did the Institute in, I started talking with those you helped bring here with me. It's not exactly unanimous, but… we decided to offer you a position with us."

"With… you here in Sanctuary?" She acts confused, although I can sorta see where he's going.

"Kind of. Uh, no. Not really. Um… Would you be the General of the Minutemen, Beth?" He looks at her in high hopes, but her own expression…

She's just completely baffled. "…Me? Why me?"

"You're clearly capable. And… we're kind of running low on officials here. For a while now, I've been the one in charge of the whole group. But that's not me—I'm not a natural born leader. You are." Her expression becomes even more incredulous. "When you guys walked in, you were in charge of your posse. Even though you were bringing in the rear. But that's only because your husband here is overprotective—which, at the moment, is understandable."

"It's Robert, by the way," I tell him.

He stretches out his hand to shake mine. "Nice to meet you formally." I shake the man's hand as he turns his attention back to Beth. _Interesting fellow._ "So, what do you say?" he asks her.

"You want me to be General of the Minutemen? Me, a pregnant woman? Plus, taking into consideration that this is only the second time we've met."

"It doesn't matter to me how many times I've seen you. You _are_ capable, and I trust you completely to take charge of this militia. Both of you, if you wish." He glances at me.

"Oh, no," I say. "Leave me out of it."

Beth seems to be in serious thought as Preston continues to stare at her, awaiting her word. After a couple minutes of deliberation, she nods. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Great." Preston smiles at her, then to the boys and I. "We have to celebrate. Finally, the Minutemen can make a comeback. Let us dine and be merry," he chuckles, copying the English language from a _far_ bygone era.

He then leads us to the yellow house across the street from Beth's, the house he'd gone to when he left. This is apparently where the center of town is, as everybody from Concord is in it.

"This is our new General?" a woman asks as Presto Gravy introduces Beth to the group. "You've got to be kidding me." Just from her resting bitch face, I _really_ want to smack her upside the head, but with that comment—it'll be a miracle if she makes it through the night.

"This is not just our new General, Marcy. This is the woman that led the attack and ultimately destroyed the Institute. And do you not remember her, her husband here, and their friend helping us back in Concord with those Raiders?" A little quieter, he adds, "You were the only one who voted against her being with us. Just suck it up." The woman's face shows even more of an exasperated expression as she stomps out of the room. Preston turns to us. "Don't worry about her. She's always been a bitter person."

* * *

"You and Shaun can have the bed," I tell Beth. "Unless you think the couch will be more comfortable?" I remember when we'd come here before, how the bed was pretty broken down. Still, it didn't look as bad as the couch did.

"Are you sure, babe?" she asks, glancing down the hall.

"Yeah. If you want to switch just let me know, okay?" She nods as she and Shaun head down the hall and go into her old bedroom.

As Duncan lays on top of me, trying to get comfortable, I explain to him. "Sorry about this—I know you're used to a bed now. But since there's only one, we're letting Mom have it. It's getting harder for her to sleep now that your baby brother or sister is growing bigger."

"It's fine, Dad." He finally finds a position good enough for him. A few minutes later—when I think he's asleep—he says, "I thought you were thinking it was a girl—so I'd have a sister. Why'd you say _brother_ or sister a little bit ago?" He looks up at me.

"Well, I guess it's because we're not sure, you know? And I don't want you to be expecting one or the other, in case I'm wrong, or in case Mom's wrong. Does that make sense?"

He nods. "Yeah. But I really don't care either way. A brother or a sister would be great." He smiles as he roots around, trying to find another comfortable position for his head. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Duncan." I close my eyes and drift off minutes later.

* * *

"Dad." Groggily, I open my eyes to see who I think is Shaun standing in front of me. "Dad?" I blink a few times, getting the sleep out.

"What is it, Shaun?" I whisper, as Duncan is still asleep.

"Mom can't sleep."

"What?" Having just been woken up, I'm finding it hard to comprehend things. "What do you mean?"

"She can't get comfortable. I asked her if she wanted to move onto the couch like you offered before bed, but she said no—that she didn't want to disturb you guys. But I knew you wouldn't have it, so I came here to tell you.

"Maybe if you and I switched places, she could go to sleep better—since she's used to you being there all the time anyway, and not me."

After some time of thinking it over—my mind still being cloudy—I nod, and gently scoot out from under the boy lying on me. "Okay. You stay here with Duncan," I continue to whisper, having woken him up slightly. "He should fall back to sleep in seconds…" I pause. "See, there's his snoring already. Think you can sleep okay here?"

"Don't worry about me, Dad. I'm more worried for Mom. Besides—I can sleep almost anywhere. Those scientists programmed me good." He slides into the spot I was in moments ago. _I'm glad he can joke about these things now._

I walk into the bedroom Beth is in, and see her lying on her back, her eyes closed. I walk to the other side—the side I normally sleep on—and crawl in beside her. As she feels me, she looks to my face. "What happened to the couch?" she asks quietly.

"Shaun said you couldn't sleep, and was worried—got me worried, I guess." I lay on my side, facing her, my elbow propping my hand up to hold my head. "Can't get comfortable?"

"No," she sighs. Moving to face me, she props her own head up. "So, why are you here?"

"Maybe I can help." I lay on my own back and pat my chest. "C'mere." She doesn't hesitate as she lowers her head down. With her exactly where I like her, I tell her, "Go ahead—stretch out. Get comfortable."

I remember back to when she and I were in College Square Station, when I was reminded of my not-so-bright past and got drunk due to it. It was the night I finally started talking about Lucy. She knew I was upset and started running her fingers through my hair. I remember how soothing it was—how I nearly fell asleep with her doing it. So, I decide to run my own fingers through her blonde hair, in hopes it'd help her fall asleep easier.

"That feels nice," she tells me, sounding like she's already half out of it. She stretches her arm out, laying it across me as she curls up into my side—well, as much as she can manage with a baby bump between us.

"Goodnight, baby," I say, kissing the top of her head.

* * *

After staying in Sanctuary for almost a week, we decided to head home. Beth wanted to stop by Bunker Hill for a night—which I thought was weird. She just chalked it up to being tired and wanting to check out the caravans' wares. _We could have just gone home,_ I thought. _I'm the one driving anyway. She could have just rested on the way back._ But I didn't argue, so Bunker Hill it was.

Then it was the Prydwen. I'd known that she wasn't planning on going back for a while, so it surprised me when she told me to swing us by there. The boys and I stayed on the Vertibird landing down at the airport while she took the whirligig up to the airship. I laughed at how Duncan gazed up at the thing, but was still a bit concerned in the back of my head. _She didn't even say why she wanted to come here. Is something wrong, or is it just a social visit?_

* * *

Beth POV

 _Mother_ by Florence + the Machine

"So, you don't see anything wrong?" I ask Cade as he glances at his clipboard.

"No, I do not. Go over the symptoms with me again, if you would."

"Certainly," I say. "I've noticed extra fatigue coming home from one of my excursions. Also, my back has been hurting more than normal, although that probably has to do with sleeping on my back. I've been getting headaches, and my vision has been a bit blurred—plus, I've been a touch lightheaded, dizzy." He scribbles all these things down and looks over them before speaking.

"I'd say it'd be best to start sleeping on your side now. Your fetus has become so large that all the added weight to your spine and arteries can cause complications. This can have much to do with your being lightheaded slash dizzy, as well as your headaches and blurred vision. It's all that pressure from sleeping on your back—that would be my guess. If everything doesn't seem to be going away, come see me again." He turns and digs through a bin, handing me a bottle of pills from the sound. "If you must, take these. It's a combination drug that can both help you sleep and alleviate some of your back problems—so take them with caution."

"I appreciate it, Knight-Captain." I stand up from the gurney he'd made me sit on. "Thanks again for seeing me."

"It's no problem. Congratulations, by the way." He turns his attention back to the clipboard in his hands—most likely another soldier's profile—as his way of saying we're done here.

As I'm descending the ladder, leading to the command deck, I—of all times—lose balance and nearly fall down the bloody thing. And I would have, had it not been for the gloved pair of hands catching me.

"Be more careful, soldier," Maxson says, not realizing it's me yet. As he does, however, he straightens me up on my feet. "Sentinel—it's been a while." He glances down to the bulge which is always front and center, but looks back up to my face quickly.

"Haven't heard anybody call me that yet," I tell him. "Going to have to get used to it. And it's not rude," I chuckle. "You can look—it's kinda hard not to, I admit." I place my hand under the baby boy.

Taking that as an okay, he looks again. "I must say, I've only seen a handful of… expectant mothers."

"It's not informal to say 'pregnant,' Elder." I laugh at him, earning a sheepish expression. "It's perfectly normal—every single one of us got here like this."

"I'm aware," he all but mumbles, seeming his actual age for once.

"Elder, if I may: how many women have you seen pregnant? Like, an estimate."

He motions me to follow him onto the observation part of the command deck. Once he's leaning against the railing, he says, "Maybe two." He seems like he's thinking back.

"Who were they, if you know?"

"One was just a wastelander I'd seen on a Brotherhood patrol before taking the Elder positon. The other, however, I knew somewhat personally. She was a member of the Brotherhood in the Capital Wasteland a long time ago. It's been about… I want to say it was seven or eight years ago. She hasn't been back since. Shame, too, since she was the one to start Project Purity." My eyes go round at that name. "Are you familiar with that project, Sentinel? You seem surprised to have heard it by name just now."

"I would say I'm familiar with it. Kate started that, yes?" He nods. "Yeah, I know her. And her family—including her son." Now his eyes go round.

"How do you know her?"

"She took care of my husband's son for a year when he was sick. When he got better, and we went to pick him up and bring him here, I met her. One of the nicest people I've ever had the privilege to know."

He smiles—Maxson actually smiles. "I couldn't agree more. I've known her for half my life. I was just a Squire back then—hard to believe it's been that long."

"Yeah, time tends to fly, doesn't it?" He nods in agreement. "Well, I just came back from visiting my old house, and I'm kind of tired. I really just need to get home and relax, so if you'll excuse me. I'll be back later. Not sure when, but I will be. Possibly with a baby," I chuckle. "I don't want to keep Robert or our sons waiting down at the airport." I turn to leave. "It's been nice talking with you, Elder."

He clears his throat. "Arthur will do just fine, Sentinel." I turn and look at him in shock, although I hide it.

"Well, in that case, just call me Beth, _Arthur._ " He nods his head once, turning his attention to the windows of the observation deck.

* * *

"Well, that was something," I say as I climb off the Vertibird with Robert's help.

"What was?" He and the boys follow me as I head back to where we'd left the boat.

"Maxson and I had a conversation—like, an actual conversation. He's more than just a stoic, brooding Elder. He seems like he'd be sweet, once you crack that outer shell of his." _All fourteen feet of it,_ I think with a grin. I think of his smile, something I'd never seen before. "He knows Kate, by the way."

"What? How?" This grabs Duncan's attention, too.

"You told me before that she was in the Brotherhood, right?" He nods. "Well, he said she was a part of it when he was younger—he told me he was just a Squire," I chuckle. "Hard to imagine him that young and small, he's so big now."

"He say how long ago that was?" Robert asks, completely enthralled in the tale. All four of us board our boat and start the short ride home.

"He hinted at around ten years ago was when he first met her." He laughs. "What?"

"That was around the time I met her, too." He chuckles again. "I know she did a lot of traveling in that year, but I didn't think it was _that_ much. What a small world."

"Always has been," I say.


	40. 39 A Domestic Kerfuffle

39\. A Domestic Kerfuffle

Beth POV

 _Queen of Peace_ by Florence + the Machine

I still can't believe I was made the General of the Commonwealth Minutemen. I mean, why me? I'm just your everyday mother and housewife. Yes, I did help the Brotherhood destroy the Institute, but I wasn't alone—plus, my familial connection helped, I'm so sure. So, to be the leader of one of the biggest militias in Massachusetts… there are no words for how it makes me feel.

"Hey, Beth?" Robert comes into what he calls the library, where I glance over the rows of books, trying to find something to read.

"Hm?" Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, The Twilight Saga— _all series at least forty to fifty years older than me. Hard to believe they were so popular back then._

"I was wondering if you could do me a favour." I look up at him, to his hat being held in his hands. "My hair's been getting pretty long, and I hate the thought of having to go all the way to a barber and spend money just to have it cut. Do you think you can do it for me?" He almost seems embarrassed to ask.

"Sure. I mean, I'm not a cosmetologist or anything, but I can try." I open the desk drawer next to me and grab the pair of scissors we scantly use. Moving our way into the kitchen, he throws his hat onto the table as he grabs a chair, taking a seat. He faces backwards to leave the back of his head fully exposed to me. "So, how short do you want it?" I ask him.

"Doesn't really matter to me. Maybe about the length it was when we met?" He glances back at me, curious if I remember, challenging me to.

"Okay," I simply agree. "Can do." He just smiles and turns back around.

I look at his hair for a couple moments before going to the cabinet opposite the cooking stove. I get out a bottle of water and take it over to him, splashing him in the back of the head with some of it. He gasps at both how cold it is, and at the surprise of getting wet suddenly.

"Hey! What was that for? I'm not a misbehaving cat." He feels the back of his head.

I slap his hand away. "Hair's easier to cut when wet. And it could use a washing anyway." I take my own hand and rub the water in better, although it wasn't much to begin with. So, I splash him again.

"Hey! Beth, knock it off. That makes me feel weird."

I giggle. "Oh, hush, you," I tell him as I rub the latest amount of water in. "There. That's better." I go around him, surveying the length, envisioning what it will look like.

"Beth, it doesn't need to be perfect. I know that face—you're going all OCD on me here." I shrug. "Ugh. Well, I might as well get comfortable, since I'm going to be sitting here for a few hours."

I playfully smack him in the back of the head. "No, you will not. You may not see your uneven hair, but I will—and I _guarantee_ you, it will drive me nuts. So, you won't hear the end of. Now, be still."

* * *

"There." I set the scissors down on the kitchen island and step back. "All done."

He stands and tiptoes around the hair on the floor, heading to get the broom. "Thanks for doing that," he tells me. "It feels better already. How does it look?"

"I don't know," I chuckle. "You haven't let me see it—you've been moving too much." He sighs, and stops his sweeping to let me see. _Such a kid,_ I think, laughing internally.

He looks just like he did when I met him, just like he asked. "Well?" he asks, impatient.

"You look just as handsome as when I met you." _Hard to believe it's been ten months since I hired him—and eleven months since meeting. Like we've needed that contract since then._ I smile at him. " _Guapo._ "

"Oh, no. Not again with the Spanish. You know I can't understand a word you say. You just called me 'balding guinea pig' or something, didn't you?" I shake my head as I slowly walk toward him, a small grin on my face. "Then, you must have said some other offensive word—that way the boys can't understand it. Just in case they're listening." I shake my head again, closing in on him. He knows what I'm doing—we've played this cat and mouse game numerous times. He grins back at me as he backs up with a speed matching my own. "Oh, yeah? Then what did you say?"

"You can't guess?"

"I literally have been." He bumps into the dining table, stopping his retreat.

"Well, you're wrong." I catch up to him and put my hands on either side of him on the table. "You know what happens when you're wrong?" I look at him from under my lashes—a look that causes a small hitch in his breathing.

"No. What happens?"

I take a deep breath—needing to, since the baby decided my lungs was suddenly a nice spot for elbows—and look down from his face.

"You get corrected," I say, leaning away from the table. "I said 'handsome' in Spanish. You might want to learn it, since I use ever so often on you." I collect the scissors and the half-full bottle of water and place them in their respective spots.

I can hear him in the kitchen still as I sit down in the living room. He scoffs and comes into the room with me. "Well, that was anticlimactic." He sits across from me in his own armchair. "Couldn't have keep going with that? I was having fun." He sticks his bottom lip out, pouting.

"I know," I laugh. "That's why I stopped. That made it fun for me." I pick up the book I ultimately decided to read back in the office. But when I look back up, he's staring down at the floor, still pouting. I laugh again.

" _We_ could've had fun," he says, a childish edge to his voice, like when children don't get their way.

I shake my head. "The boys are awake right now. Maybe later." I wink at him, turning his pouty mouth into a smile real quick.

* * *

A few hours after going to bed, we're woken up by a ruckus across the water. Not sure what it is, Robert and I stand on the back patio, staring to the mainland, where we see laser weapons being fired rapidly—accompanied by some kind of loud roaring. Neither of us know what the noise is coming from, but know it doesn't sound friendly, whatever is causing it. After several minutes of what seems to be a battle between invisible forces, all noises cease, and the night is still again. I become very curious as to what exactly that was as I climb back into bed. _We'll find out eventually._

Or sooner than eventually.

"Well, I'm gonna go over there and see what that was last night," Robert tells me in the morning as he loads a few magazines of ammo into his bag. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

"No, you won't," I tell him. "If you're going over there, so am I." I head toward the office, where we keep our weapons, and just supplies in general for our excursions.

"Nope—not a chance. You're staying here. Did you hear that last night? No way I'm letting you go over there with me. I'm just going to quietly slip in and out—nothing will even know I'm there, so it'll be fine."

"Exactly," I argue. "I've gotten just as good as you when it comes to sneaking around." His face tells me he's not going to let me win this one. "C'mon. I'm curious, too." He shakes his head—final answer. And just like he was last night, it's my turn to pout. "You never let me go anywhere anymore." I put my rifle back in its place—where it's been for far too long.

"You know if it were just you and I, I'd have no problem with it. It's her I'm worried about." He comes up to me, placing his hand under my belly. "I'm sorry, but you won't even know that I left, I'll be back so quick." He gives me a kiss as he reaches around me and picks up his gun. "Be right back, dear." _Uh-huh_ , I think sarcastically.

* * *

I find it exceptionally hard to not be giggling right now.

It took a bit of time for Robert to refuel the boat, so I had time to hide behind some of the cargo we'd accumulated on board over the months. As I sit here, I check the magazines I'd brought with me, and am pleased to see they're full. _Just in case… Boy, I'm glad I had so much time on my hands._ With my staying at home for so long, I was able to load up all of our available clips with ammo—for both mine and Robert's rifles—since I'd pretty much ran out of things to do.

As he goes into the cabin and starts up the engine, I wonder if I'll have motion sickness. _Of course, it'd be just like me to ruin this with something so trivial. Keep it together,_ I coax myself. _You've been on this boat countless times._

A few minutes later, the boat is pulling up next to a dock not too far from Fort Independence—or at least what's left of it. Some of the walls have since been crushed in, revealing what so many civilians had missed out on before the War. Luckily, I'd been in it before due to Nate's service to our country.

Once the engine is shut off, and Robert is wielding his rifle, he steps off the boat and quietly starts heading toward the giant granite walls. Coming out from behind my cover, I follow him—with my own rifle drawn—from about ten feet back or so. He stops a couple dozen yards away, assessing the situation before proceeding. I take this time to move up closer to him. "What do you think happened?" I ask. He gasps and whips around pointing his gun in my direction. "Chill, it's just me."

"How did you get here?" he asks, flabbergasted.

"I told you I'm good at sneaking." I smile triumphantly at him, much to his chagrin.

"You need to be home. We don't know who or what is in there." He frowns at me.

"Exactly. I want to know, too. So, here I am." My grin beams on.

He sighs and continues to look at me, disappointment clearly in his eyes. I still can't help my grin. Taking a deep breath, he says, "Fine. _But_ … stay behind me the whole time. And for God's sake, don't do anything stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Pssh. Let's get this show on the road," I tell him, quoting him from many of our adventures when I was taking too long doing whatever. He glares at me before turning toward the star-shaped fort and slowly advancing toward it.

Once inside, we see a giant… _thing._ I don't even know how to describe it. However, Robert knows exactly what it is as he says, "So, that's what all the noise was last night. That's a Mirelurk Queen."

"A what?" I stare at the dead carcass of what seems to have been satan reincarnate.

"They're like Mirelurks, but bigger and a _lot_ meaner. I'm glad we weren't here when that thing went down." He points to some steaming acid-looking stuff, and continues. "They spit that at you, and it burns like _hell_. Not to even mention how powerful their claws are." He hears my audible gulp. "Yeah."

"Well, I didn't realize my General beacon was turned on," I hear from a familiar voice.

"Preston?" I glance around until I see the Colonel. "What are you doing here?"

"This used to be the Minutemen's base until it got overran by these things." He points around him—not only to the Mirelurk Queen—but to a whole litter of Mirelurk adults and spawns alike. "We decided to take the Castle back."

"The 'Castle?' Isn't this Fort Independence?"

"Back before the War, that was its name. Now, we call it the Castle. Easier, you know?" He chuckles, only to stop and look seriously at me. "How'd you know the name of it? Been here before?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Back in its glory days."

"Back when the Minutemen used it?" His eyebrows knit together as I shake my head. He looks so confused, I can't help but to laugh. "What does she mean?" he asks Robert.

"Well, if you take into consideration when Boston's glory days as a whole were, you might guess correctly." He grins smugly.

Preston just stares at me, his brows still knitted, yet with his eyes wide open. It's such a comical combination, I giggle at him. "You can't possibly… be serious," he manages.

I nod my head, a smile on my face. "Beth MacCready, Pre-War vault dweller, at your service." He just can't believe it, so he looks back to my husband, who shrugs, his grin still present.

* * *

"Okay," Preston says for the fourth time consecutively. "So, the General of the Minutemen just so happens to have been born in 2051, frozen in time, and woken up in 2287. Alright. Seems normal to me." He's been sitting in the armoury—a hidden place he and a woman named Ronnie had cleared out—for a solid ten minutes, trying to come to terms with my situation. He looks up at me, sitting on the table in the middle of the room—a table used for papers with combat strategies—Robert leaning on it next to me. "Your friend—that man that left the Commonwealth when the Institute blew up… he was trying to protect you back at Concord, huh? He wouldn't let you say anything about your being Pre-War. I remember you saying something, and then he'd cut you off, finishing your story. Was that what he was doing?"

I nod. "Yeah. Of course, _he_ knew. He actually knew more about my situation than I did for a long time." He shakes his head, astonished at all of this.

"What about today? How'd you guys get here so quickly? Like I said, I didn't know my General beacon was on." He chuckles, although it sounds strained due to his shock.

"Oh, we live over there," I say nonchalantly, pointing my thumb west of us. "All your commotion woke us up last night."

"You live where?" He looks toward the direction I pointed, although there's nothing but wall to stare at from in here.

"On Spectacle Island," Robert answers. "We moved in several months back."

"On Mirelurk Island?" His brows raise.

"Yup. Took care of them and called it our own. We had a house built and everything—the Atom Cats helped us a lot. And even one of our friends in the Brotherhood," I tell him. _Well, that_ used _to be in the Brotherhood,_ I think.

Preston looks down at the ground. "Well, if only we'd known that, we would have gotten you to lead this attack. The battle would have been over so much sooner—and with fewer casualties…"

"Nuh-uh," Robert says. "We couldn't have anyway. Well, at least not her. If you haven't already noticed, she's expecting. And we can't afford to put her in danger at the moment." He leans away from the table suddenly and makes for the door. "I'm headed home," he tells me. "So, if you want a ride…"

I look to Preston. "I'm sorry about that. Like you said in Sanctuary: he's protective. I'll see you later." I carefully climb off the table and follow Robert. Once I catch up to him—already on the other side of the Castle's main doors—I ask him, "What was that all about?"

"It's not obvious?" He keeps walking, not even turning to look at me as he talks. "He wanted you to put your life—our baby's life—in danger just so they can expand their militia. I won't have it."

I latch onto his arm, stopping his gait. "It was just wishful thinking. He knows I couldn't have, and it's over anyway. I can't do anything about it now."

"Good thing, too." He glances toward home, refusing to meet my gaze. His attitude is completely different from the one he had just a few minutes ago.

"Robert, look at me." Unwilling, he turns his face down toward me. "There's nothing to worry about. Everything here is fine—the baby is fine. I don't see why you're being so mad about it."

"I don't see why you're okay with it." He shakes his arm free and again heads toward the boat.

* * *

Ever since our small fight just outside the Castle, Robert's been keeping his distance. _Why was he being like that? I've never seen him like that before…_ When we docked in the boathouse, he silently handed me his rifle and went toward Danse's house. He's still there—although I don't know what he's doing.

"Hey, Mom. Where's Dad? Didn't he come home with you?" Duncan has been searching all over kingdom come in search of his father.

"He went to Danse's house," I tell the boy as I put the rifles' ammo clips back into their places.

"Oh." He moves to the front door—which is always kept open anymore—and stares out north, toward the house I mentioned. "What's he doing?"

"Lord knows what." I hand him the last three clips. "Put these up, and I'll go find out?" He nods as I take off.

As I walk to my former colleague's home, I not only see that his door is open as well, but I hear him speaking, as if he's instructing someone. "That's it. Keep your feet flat, and continue to breathe. I can't stress that enough. Breathe." I walk up the steps to his house and knock on the opened door. Looking toward me, "Hey, Beth. Come in." I can now see exactly what he's doing.

Robert is on his bench press, currently holding up the barbell, and Danse is standing not three feet from his head, spotting for him. "What's going on here?" I realize my tone is super confused sounding.

"He wanted some help lifting, so I'm helping him." Danse only spares a moment to look at me as he says this, again focusing on his trainee.

"I see that. Just… why?"

"Said he was upset—wanted to get stronger. Those two can go really well together when it's safe. So, that's why he asked me to help him. One more," he tells him.

Robert finishes the last rep and sets the barbell back in its cradle. He sits up and looks at me, but his expression is off—it doesn't look like he's happy to see me, but rather sort of annoyed at my presence.

"He did really good for never using weights before," Danse tells me. "Consider me impressed." He glances between us and connects the dots: Robert must've been upset because of me. _They're fighting,_ his eyes say, reflecting his thoughts. "I'll just, uh… I need to go… do something. Be right back." He excuses himself as he leaves the house—giving Robert and I some privacy.

After a minute, he says, "He's not too bad of an instruct—"

"Enough with the small talk," I interrupt. "What is going on? You haven't been your usual self ever since this morning at the Castle. It's been four hours, and you still haven't told me why. So, I wanna know."

He grabs a rag I assume our friend had set aside for him, and wipes his neck and brow. "Why…" He stands and—for the first time since living in Home Plate, back before finding Duncan's cure—he starts to pace. _This isn't good,_ I think.

"Because of this morning, it seemed to me that you don't care. That you couldn't give a crap about me. Me, I hear you ask. Not really me as much as what would _wreck_ me.

"I wanted you to stay home—to stay safe, to keep _our baby_ safe, just in case of something dangerous at the Castle. But you came along anyway, despite my trying to keep you out of harm's way. You put our unborn child in the line of danger—but more than that… you put _you_ in the line of danger.

"Now, I know nothing ended up wanting to kill us, but it's the principle—that you didn't trust me enough to stay here. Do you know what would happen if I lost you, Beth? Have you any clue?"

He sighs. "Do you remember back when you first hired me—I think it was about a week after—that I got horrendously drunk and nearly committed suicide?" I nod, remembering how painful it was, especially as he grew to mean more to me. Yet, I stay silent as he continues. "I didn't want to live anymore, because I was so sure that Duncan was going to die. That, and with Lucy being gone, I battled depression for _four long years_. Until I met you.

"When you saved me that night, and I woke up the next morning, I _swore_ I would never attempt to kill myself again. For Duncan, for _you._ But, can you imagine, if I lost you, how hard it would be to keep my promise? I wouldn't want Duncan without a father, but I honestly don't think I could handle it enough to stay alive. It was bad enough the first time—I couldn't this time. Not with you." _Ever_ so slightly, I see his eyes glistening.

And as for my own, I feel _my_ eyes threatening complete waterworks. "I'm… I'm so sorry, Robert." _Annnd, there they go._ I dab at my face with the sleeve of my shirt, trying to make it seem like I'm not crying, but he knows. He always knows.

"Beth…" He comes towards me slowly, not sure how he'll be received. Once he's close enough, he stops—but I don't. Not caring how sweaty he's gotten, I wrap my arms around him and let loose.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think. I really _am_ stupid." He envelopes me in his embrace completely, shushing and kissing the top of my head.

* * *

MacCready POV

I didn't think she's be upset like _that_. If anything, I expected her to be mad at me—not come undone and break down a dam of tears. I didn't even tell her all of it. But why should I? I'd already come to the conclusion that I was wrong, so why make it worse?

Last night—before being woken up by that rude beast across the pond—I had a disturbing dream. I had a dream that our baby was born—and although I don't remember the gender of it—I was utterly shocked to find out it wasn't mine, at _all._ So, I'd woken up with that mentality for some reason. _What if it_ is _somebody else's? No,_ I'd told myself come morning. _We haven't been apart long enough for her to blow her nose without me knowing about it._ So, why would I go and say that to her—make her even _more_ upset after our fight?

She's still crying in my arms, in the middle of Danse's house. Cause why would we do this kind of thing in our own, right?

I glance toward the door—still open—and see Danse standing outside, looking in. He looks worried. I smile at him and give him a thumbs up, letting him know we're better. He nods and walks off someplace.

Once Beth's finished ruining my shirt, we head home—giving Danse his house back finally. She says to me, "Well, I'd read this thing once. It's probably not important, but I just thought of it."

"Thought of what?" I ask.

"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' So, even if I did die, you would have at least known me."

"No," I refute. "Lord Alfred Tennyson was wrong. I'd rather keep you around a while longer, if you don't mind." She just smiles at me.

A few minutes later, she asks, "So, Danse said you were upset—and I get that. But what was that about becoming stronger?"

I chuckle. "I thought maybe if I had more muscle, I could keep you at home easier—tie you to the bedpost or something."

She grins. "You don't need to try to keep me at home to tie me to the bedpost. All you gotta do is ask." She winks at me.

I take it in stride. "Yeah. Speaking of that—last night, you said later. It's later right now."

She looks to the clock and back at me. "Well. I guess it is later." Her devilish grin—which I love so much—appears.

 _Wow_. I'm _the stupid one for even thinking that she'd cheat on me,_ I think some time later as she passes out on top of me, her bare skin lining my own. I can feel the baby kick against me— _our_ baby.


	41. 40 Game Day

40\. Game Day

MacCready POV

 _Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World_ by Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole

Four and a half weeks have passed since our fight. The baby's due pretty soon—and much to Beth's irritation—Curie told her to stay in bed as much as possible. But, Beth being all stubborn like she is, she finds it difficult to sit still for so long. I keep telling her to take it easy—that she's not going to be able to rest anytime soon with our new addition. But she still goes around the house—around the whole _island_ —trying to find something to do. To be honest, it kind of cracks me up.

"Guess what I found," I say to her as she walks into the house from doing who-knows-what.

"What?" She notices the small booklet in my hand.

"Well, first of all, where did we find this?" I hold it out to her so she can see the title.

" _Myth or Fact: Alexandria's Genesis._ " She glances up at me. "I don't have a clue. Is it something you picked up?" I shake my head. "Hm. No idea. Anyway, what about it?"

"It caught my eye earlier, so I started reading some of it—and I really don't know what to think." Her brows raise, telling me to go on. "Most people used to think Alexandria's Genesis was a fraud—no way it'd be real. But I'm not so sure now." We move into the living room and sit on the couch next to the liquor cabinet—something neither of us have used in ages.

"There's a full chapter here on symptoms," I say, flipping to the appropriate page. "Here: pale skin, no hair on the body except the head and face, superior immune system, purple eyes. And speaking of eyes—the eyelashes are longer than normal."

"I don't understand what you're getting at," she says, looking from the booklet to me.

" _You_ have pale skin and practically no body hair. And radiation doesn't seem to affect you like it does the rest of us—you're almost immune."

"Yeah. I always have been one of the lucky ones—never had to shave my legs," she laughs. "And I am pale, but so were my parents. I don't know what's up about the whole radiation thing—maybe it's because I was underground for so long—but purple eyes? C'mon, Robert—be serious. You know mine are blue."

"Yeah," I agree. "Normally." She looks confused. "You're not able to see your eyes anymore," I tell her. "Mirrors are a thing of the past, I get that. So, you don't see them when you're angry."

"When I'm… angry? What are you talking about?"

"I've noticed when you get mad, or even irritated, your eyes take on a bit more of a violet tint. It's really beautiful, honestly."

She blinks a few times, hearing this for the first time. "Why haven't you told me before?"

"Never occurred to me to tell you," I say with honesty. "But those eyelashes." I stare down at them. "They're so long, it's criminal for you to use them to get your way like you do."

"Oh, I do not." She looks down, blushing violently—knowing all too well that she does exactly what I accused her of.

"But," I grab her attention again, "the thing that _really_ made me think that this fits you…" I point to the paragraph.

She takes the booklet from my hands and reads it out loud. "'What marks women with Alexandria's Genesis the most would be this: the ability to bear children without the presence of regular menstrual cycles—and sometimes the lack of cycles completely.'" She looks up to me from the text. "I don't think so. It was just a coincidence, I'm sure."

I cock one brow up at her. "A coincidence, huh? Well, then it's a pretty big one, considering you have _all_ these symptoms." I take the booklet back. "It's pretty weird if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't, so…" She gets up and goes into the kitchen.

Getting up to follow her, I notice how she's facing away from me, no matter where she goes or what she does. "Beth?"

She still faces the other way. "What?"

"Have you known about this?" I set the booklet down onto the kitchen island.

She scoffs, "No. Why would I know about that stupid syndrome?"

"Neither of us said anything about it being a syndrome," I tell her—although I'd read it, I didn't say it—and she didn't either. "So, how do you know?"

She pulls a Nuka-Cola from the fridge. "Lucky guess." She walks onto the back patio, taking a seat at the table as I continue to follow her.

"I don't think it is. I think you already knew about it." She looks out toward the Atom Cats' garage. "C'mon, Beth. You know I see right through you, just admit it."

She sighs. "Okay. Maybe I knew about it already. But I never thought I had it—I swear. It always tripped me out, so I don't like to think about it." She finally looks up at me. "Can we not talk about it anymore?"

"Sure. We don't have to. I just think it's cool."

"Robert, you're talking about it."

I nod. "Right. Sorry."

* * *

"When your mom comes in, don't forget to light the candle," I tell Shaun.

It's finally here. Beth's one-year anniversary of leaving the vault. To celebrate the occasion, the boys and I unboxed some Fancy Lads Snack Cakes and stacked them on top of each other—our best attempt at making a cake for her. Nobody, other than Beth, can even make a cake, so this is all we can do. As for the candle—we're reusing the single candle that was on all three of our cakes. The one simple chunk of wax used to light rooms. It's better than nothing.

I can hear her coming now, so I tell Shaun to light it. Then, all three of us hide under the island in the kitchen—our way of a surprise party.

"Surprise!" we all yell when she walks into the kitchen. She giggles at how we poke our faces out from under the island, like dogs sticking their heads out from their doghouses.

Once we come out, she wraps me in a hug, whispering, "You are the father of our children, yet you hide under the table along with them, like a kid yourself."

"Hey, I never claimed to have grown up." I kiss her on the cheek so she can hug Shaun and Duncan, too.

"How'd you guys know?" she asks us.

"That today was the day you left the vault?" I ask. "You told me a while back it was October 23rd, right?"

She laughs. "Yeah, that's right… I thought this was for something else there for a bit."

"What else would it be for?" Duncan asks her.

"Today's my birthday!" She bends down, as much as she can, and kisses the boy's head.

"What?!" I'm glad I didn't have anything in my mouth, or it would've came right back out. "I never knew that!"

"I never told anybody." She thinks for a moment. "Well, Piper beat it out of me once, so that's a lie."

"Happy Birthday, Mom!" Duncan and Shun ring out in sync, reaching around her to give her another hug.

"I never thought you'd be one to keep secrets from me," I accuse her with a grin.

"Didn't think I had to announce my becoming 237 years old, babe," she teases back.

* * *

All in all, the surprise party for Beth ended up surprising _us._ It was a good time, though. We just kept it in the family—mainly due to there not being enough "cake" for Danse and Curie—but also because Beth didn't want to share her extra "old" age with them.

A few days later, we _all_ got a surprise.

"Special delivery!" we hear Danse call out near the door. Beth is the first to get there, and I hear her gasp. Wondering what it is, I rush to the door to see Danse standing near something big and blue.

"Shaun's crib?!" Beth manages to get out.

"Yep," Danse says. "Arrived this morning all the way from Sanctuary."

"Wha—? How?" She goes up to the Pre-War relic and touches the side rail.

"It's a present from someone going by the name 'Gravy Boat.'" He looks to me and says, "He told me to tell you he knows you call him that behind his back." I roll my eyes. "Anyway. He'd come to the island a couple times, asking Curie and I some questions about it—but he dropped it off this morning and said to give it to you with this." He hands Beth a note. "Well, I've gotta go now. Duncan and Shaun were wanting help with… something. So, see you two later." He starts heading toward the boys' treehouse.

Before he'd even left, Beth started reading the note, and now I see she's tearing up. "What is it?" I ask her, afraid it's not a nice note. She hands it to me, it reading:

 _I know you have a bundle of joy coming soon, and I really want to be there to meet them—but you know me. Can't stick around too long._

 _So, I helped your second-in-command back in Sanctuary fix up this here crib of yours. Gave it an extra coat of blue paint, salvaged some rockets for the mobile. And obviously had to fix those pesky broken rail… things. But thought you might as well keep it in the family, Bethany._

 _Anyway. Just wanted to say one more thing: ten caps on Robert that he's right. It's definitely a girl._

 _See you around. B)_

 _-D_

"Oh my gosh," I say, chuckling. "Of course, Deacon knows everything."

Beth nods. "He always does."

* * *

About another month has gone by without a hitch—other than Curie complaining that Beth is a horrible patient. She still remains active—constantly finding something to do. Whether it be cooking a meal, doing laundry, visiting Danse, playing with the boys—you name it, she's done it. Except leave the island. Neither of us have, and don't plan on doing so anytime soon.

According to Curie, she was thirty-six weeks today—so really, _any_ time now. So, we now lie in bed, and as cliché as it sounds, we're just snuggling up and enjoying the time we have left of feeling our baby on the inside.

"You wanna hear some names I've been thinking of?" Beth asks me, gingerly running her fingertips over the child.

"Sure. What're some names you've been thinking of?"

"I was thinking maybe Aiden, meaning 'little and fiery'. Or Hubert—that way I could call you both at the same time and say 'Hubert Robert.' He was a good painter." I chuckle at her. "Um, let's see. John, meaning 'God has favoured'—and I'm sorry, but Thaddeus has always intrigued me."

"And what does Thaddeus mean, since you're so into name meanings?"

"It's Greek for 'wise.'" She smiles.

"How do you know so many name meanings anyway?" I ask.

"I have a book." She reaches—stretching long and hard—under her nightstand and picks it up, handing it to me. "You can use it, too, if you want. It's been a while since you've thrown a name out there, so I was kinda wondering if you've gotten name block or something," she chuckles.

I look to the book in my hand—easily two or three inches thick. "Where did you have this this whole time?" She shrugs, grinning smugly. "Ugh, fine." I crack it open and start looking at the table of contents. "These names are from everywhere: the Americas, the UK, Africa. Jeez." I close it, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "So many names."

She chuckles. "I know. It's just a thought, if you wanna use it. If you don't, that's fine."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I will."

* * *

"So. Have you come up with any names?" Beth asks me about a week after she gave me her great big book of them.

"I have." I get out the piece of paper I've been keeping in my pocket—and she laughs at me. "What? You never know when I'll think of a new one." I know she's just laughing at my commitment though.

"Lemme see. Violet, meaning 'purple'—like after the flower. But if we're going to go with the whole 'purple' thing, Lavender or Iris would do. Um, Lilith if she's born at night—cause it means 'of the night.' And Addison. Just because I like the nickname Addie." I see she's smiling at me. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy is all." She gives me a kiss before taking off to find something else to do.

* * *

A couple weeks later, Beth is bigger than ever—and I couldn't be more excited. I remember back to when I was nervous just at the idea of raising another kid, back when she assured me it wasn't even possible to get pregnant. I couldn't even stand the thought of having a baby, it'd been so long since Duncan was that small, and I didn't even know Shaun until recently. But now that it's happening—like, _actually_ happening any minute now, it seems—I find I can't wipe the smile off my face.

"Hey, Mom!" I hear our eldest son yell as he and his little brother walk through the door of the house.

I move from the kitchen into the hallway where I can see them. "She's outside right now. What'd you guys need?"

"We're gonna give her something," Duncan says as he raises a cardboard box in his hands. "We wrapped it and everything!" He says this proudly as he holds the taped up box.

"That's great. Let me get her for you." I walk onto the back patio and peer out in front of me. Beth is sitting waist-deep in the water, just soaking in the sunlight. "Hon?" She turns my direction. "I think the boys want you."

"You can't help them?" This is her way of saying it's too hard to get up. Chuckling, I walk down to her and help her get to her feet.

"I'm pretty sure they want _you._ They made that abundantly clear."

Once we're inside, her feet still bare and soaking wet, Duncan hands her the box as they both say, "Surprise!"

"Oh." She takes the box, holding it with confusion. "What's this?" She looks to me.

"I don't know what it is," I tell her. "So, open it. I'm just as curious as you."

She grabs a knife from the kitchen and cuts the box open. Before either of us have the opportunity to see what's inside, Shaun gets excited and blurts it out.

"Danse helped us get it down. It's the blanket from our treehouse. For the baby!" Beth pulls the gift out of the box, and it's exactly what Shaun said it was—their fort's flag.

She lifts it to her face and smells it. "It's freshly washed?" Duncan nods and grins as Shaun giggles. "What's funny?"

"Danse also washed it," Shaun continues. "He said using the washing machine was harder than he thought it would be. 'I'd rather wear dirty clothes than use that thing again,' he said. It was so funny." Duncan joins in, laughing with him.

"I would have liked to have seen that," I tell her as she nods, agreeing.

"Thank you so much, boys! The baby will love it—I know, because I do." She hugs them both before heading toward the door. "Now I must go hear this story from the washing machine wrestler himself. It's gonna be great." She laughs as she leaves.

* * *

Game time. Or… baby time.

It's been exactly two weeks from the boys giving Beth the blanket, and according to Curie, _exactly_ forty weeks from conception. And Beth can attest to this, as she went into labour a couple hours ago. Ever since then, she's been busy pacing in the bedroom, waiting for baby MacCready to decide whether or not to come out yet. I know with Lucy, our son came into the world within a couple hours. Beth said Shaun took his dear sweet time—twelve hours. So, with this one—who knows. I really don't know what to expect.

"Do you want me to go get Curie yet?" I ask her as I peel the comforter off the bed, preparing for a messy delivery. _She'd hate it if this thing got dirty._

"No," she pants. "Ugh, here comes another one." She leans her hands against the wall as she bends over, trying to make the contraction more bearable.

"I'm sorry," I tell her for the tenth time. "If I could make it better, I would. Are you sure you don't want Med-X or something?"

She grunts out, "No. I'm doing this naturally." After the contraction passes, she stands straight up and resumes her pacing, like she has been doing for the past hour. "I don't want Curie here."

This is news to me. "What?" I turn from placing the comforter at the foot of the bed. "How are you supposed to do this then?" I stand from my kneeling position and move to the middle of her pacing track.

"You're going to?" I'm not sure why it sounds like a question, as her face is dead serious.

"Um. I don't know how to tell you this, Beth—but I'm not a doctor." _How is she expecting_ me _to do this?_

"Neither is Curie. She's just a scientist."

"Yeah," I agree. "With medical knowledge. The most I know about this stuff is that _I_ pick the gender. Like, that's it."

She braces against the wall—same spot—preparing for another round. I've learned this isn't the best time to speak, so I shut up until it's passed.

"Seriously, Beth. I can't."

"You don't know that," she says as she passes me on another lap of pacing. "You'd be surprised what you can do in a moment of stress." No telling what moment in time she's thinking of—there's been so many close calls. "Just try. Curie can be on call, but I really want you to help me with this." She stops her pacing right in front of me. "Please?"

I really don't want to, but how can I say no? Sighing, I nod my head. She gives me a side-hug—something she's been having to do recently—as a thank you. She then resumes her pacing.

* * *

"Oh my God!" She screams out. "I don't remember it being this bad!"

Beth's contractions are now mere minutes apart, and lasting longer each time—a telltale sign that it's soon. She finally decided to settle down and sit on the edge of the bed—which is lined with towels, at her request. Once this round is over, she lays her back on a pile of pillows to prop her up, relaxing while she still can.

"You have all the stuff?" she asks me.

"Yeah." I'd went to Curie a little while ago and brought back some of her science equipment—Beth had written down a list of what we needed. "Surgical tray, scissors, and tons of towels. You know, Curie's not going to be too happy with you if she doesn't get to deliver the baby."

"I don't care—she's not the father. Are you trying to get out of it?" She smiles weakly at me.

"No, dear, I'm not." I smile back at her. "I love you."

She closes her eyes, preparing for another wave. "Love you, too."

Not twenty minutes after she asked me about the supplies, she started to push, and everything went pretty smooth from there. Within ten minutes, we had our baby.

* * *

I cut the umbilical cord and hold my new child, wrapped in a couple old towels and crying like only newborns know how. "Oh, aren't you just the sweetest thing?" I look up to Beth, who is still catching her breath.

"Lemme see," she says. Handing her the baby, I can't help but to laugh. "What?" Completely forgetting about what she just asked me, she takes the newborn in her arms. "Oh! He's beautiful!" I laugh again. "What?" She lifts the towel up, only to replace it and stare at me. "He's a girl." She's so exhausted, the tone she uses only makes it better.

I bust out again. "I told you."

"Oh, shut up, Robert. Hope you have a name worked out." She holds her hand out to me, like she wants to shake hands. Taking it in my own, she does exactly this as she says, "Congrats, Dad. You win."

"No," I disagree, placing a hand on either of my two girls. "We _both_ won." She grins at me.

* * *

A few hours after delivery—and it being less messy than I remembered my first time around—Beth and our new daughter lie in bed, resting after an eventful afternoon. Of course I'm next to them, staring as I figured I would be after she came into this world, _my_ world.

"Robert?" I look from my daughter to my wife. "Does she feel cold to you?"

I put my hand on our baby's back. "Yeah. Why is that? Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so. But—" She looks around the room. "Can you get the blanket the boys gave her?" I get up and try to hand it to her. Instead she hands me our daughter as she takes her shirt off. "This is something I learned back when I had Shaun. It's called 'kangaroo care.' I think it may help warm her up." She lays back down and puts the baby on top of her bare chest, wrapping the blanket around both of them. "Skin-to-skin contact always helps newborn babies."

As I sit back down on the bed, I ask her, "So, she's forty-weeks. Isn't that supposed to be full term?" She nods. "Because, I was thinking: she's awful small. Maybe that has something to do with why she's cold." She shrugs.

"I think she's fine. She looks and acts healthy." She sniffs her head and chuckles. "Nothing like the scent of a newborn." This makes me chuckle along with her.

"Ready for the boys to meet their sister?"

She shakes her head. "I think she needs a name first. That way they can be formally introduced," she smiles. "So, what've you got, Mr. Daughter-Namer?"

"Well," I start, "back when we were in Concord and helped Preston and them—like, when we were in the Museum of Freedom—I saw that a lot of women's names back in the colonial days was Abigail. I kinda liked the sound of it, and haven't forgotten it. Since you gave me that name book, I looked up what it means…"

"And…?"

"It means 'father's joy.' And I _am_ really happy, so I think that's a nice choice." I chuckle softly.

"So, her name is Abigail?" She glances down at her, as if to see if it fits her.

"Not exactly." She looks back up to me, her brows crinkled. "Her middle name is Abigail. I was thinking Victoria for her first, since it means 'victory.' She's definitely a victory child." I smile, thinking about the chances of her even being conceived. "But also," I continue, "like Queen Victoria of the UK way back when. Since you're Elizabeth, I thought it'd be cool to—don't give me that look, Beth!—you know, keep the whole queen thing going. Queen Elizabeth, Queen Victoria." I grin. "I like it—my own royal family."

She sighs. "Okay, it _does_ make sense, but you know how I feel about my full name." I nod sarcastically, having heard it numerous times in the past.

"But… you'll never guess the cool part." I run and get the book, bringing it to her, and flipping to the dog eared page I'd saved. "I found a good nickname for her." I point to the name.

"'Vitya.'" She looks up at me. "Robert, I don't know if you know how to use these kinds of books, but they're categorized by country." I nod. "Victoria is Latin. And Vitya is Russian. A Russian name for _boys_." I nod again. "Are we naming our daughter after a Russian ice skater or something and you're not telling me?"

I shrug. "I don't know. But I do know it's the Russian version of Victor, and Victoria is the feminine of Victor, so… it kind of works."

"Wow, you've _have_ been doing your research," she laughs. "Okay. …Victoria it is."

"Awesome." I smile. Rubbing my baby girl's back through the blanket, I say, "Hey there, Vitya."

Beth rolls her eyes. "It's gonna take a while to get used to that name," she chuckles.

* * *

An hour later, Beth said she was ready for the boys to come in. They saw their sister—and honestly—I couldn't remember the last time I've seen them that happy. Shaun, I could tell, would definitely be the big, older, and _very_ protective brother. Duncan was just pleased to have a sister in the first place. They both got to hold her before Beth was tired again. So, they left, vowing to see her again soon.

Curie came in briefly—just to check in—and got to see her, too. Although I could tell she was a little upset that she wasn't present for the delivery, she was just pleased it went well and that both mother and baby were healthy.

Before Beth could even think about introducing Victoria to Danse, she passed out with her still on her chest. I didn't want either of them to get hurt, so I took Vitya from her—carefully, as to not wake either of them—and covered Beth's bare skin with the comforter before wrapping Vitya more securely in the blanket.

Even if I tried, I honestly couldn't fully describe how much I enjoyed holding my daughter as I watched both she and my wife sleep soundly.

* * *

Beth POV

Well, yesterday was exhausting. I forgot just how much giving birth depletes your energy. But, it's over now—and Robert and I happily brought our daughter, Victoria, into the world.

I'm not even sure if Danse knows that it happened yet, but he's about to, because our now not-so-modestly-sized family is on our way north to his house. Robert came up with a good idea, so that's how we're gonna do it.

I lead our party with the boys following me, and Robert trailing behind holding Tori—yes, Tori, because I refuse to call her Vitya.

I'm not sure if I'm giddy from the oxytocin in my system, but I can't stop giggling the whole way here. I knock on the door, and nearly lose it when I see Danse's face, all shocked.

Walking into his house, I open my arms out wide. "Ta da!" He glances down and smiles suddenly, finally understanding what I'm getting at with my exposed torso.

"Where is she?"

"Oh, so you were rooting for Robert, too, huh? You, Deacon, Robert. Jeez. Was I the only one who was thinking it was a boy?"

"Well, was it?"

"No." My feigned frown turns into a smile as Robert walks in, revealing the new addition.

I don't think I've ever seen Danse's face light up more. "Oh my," he coos. "Look at you!" Robert silently holds her out, offering her to Danse. He's shocked, but ultimately takes her. "What's her name?"

"Vitya," Robert says as I give him a look.

"He named her Victoria, but for some reason, he refuses to call her that. I told him Vitya was a little weird, so I think he's just calling her that to annoy me."

"Is it working?" he asks, a smug grin on his face. I just roll my eyes.

"Either way," Danse says, "I like it. Both of them."

"Well, that's nice of you to say," I tell him. "Because we've been talking—and we want you to be her godfather."

He snaps his head up and looks at me as if I have lobsters crawling out of my ears. "You're not serious…"

"No, we are," Robert chimes in. "You're important to our family, and you deserve it." He smiles at him.

For the first—and possibly last time ever—I see Danse tear up. "Thank you." He looks back down to Victoria, smiling like the proud godfather he is.

* * *

 _A/N: I looked for a name for Victoria, I kid you not, for a month straight. Had me in such a mental bind. I wanted to pay homage to my late mother somehow, so I ended up going with Victoria due to my mother's love for the name_ — _it almost ended up being my name, so she really liked it._

 _And Vitya. Her full name and nickname do make sense together, I suppose. I just happened to hear the Russian name on a certain anime and connected the dots. It probably wasn't an anime about ice skating. Nope._

 _As for Alexandria's Genesis... It's always intrigued me. So, I installed it within the fic. Yup._


	42. 41 Family's First Christmas

41\. Family's First Christmas

Beth POV

 _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ by Frank Sinatra

 _I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm_ by Red Norvo

It's been a few days since our little Victoria was born. And the more time goes by, the more I realize I'm happy to have a daughter. _Two sons is enough,_ I think as I prepare to feed her.

"You know," Robert says to the boys, "you might want to leave soon unless you don't mind watching your sister latch onto your mom's boob in a minute." Duncan scrunches his face, seeming revolted, and leaves immediately. Shaun just rolls his eyes and trails his brother by a few seconds. Once it's just me, Tori, and Robert, he suddenly says, "So, it'll be Christmas in a few days. I know we don't have a tree or anything, so I was thinking maybe we could go to Diamond City—let the boys see all the lights, show off Vitya to everyone. It's been so long since we've been there, I don't think anyone even knew you were pregnant." He chuckles.

"That does sound fun," I agree. "So, I guess it's safe to assume my house arrest is expired?" He grins and nods.

"We're able to take care of her better now that she's out in the open. After all, we can't stay here forever."

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."

* * *

A few hours later, we're on our way to the Great Green Jewel—my three boys wrapped up securely in their favourite jackets, Tori and I huddled together in my own. Of course, I couldn't leave her Jangles blanket behind—she's gotten quite attached to it already—so she's wrapped up in that as well.

Once we reach the spot we normally park the boat, we unload ourselves and make our way through the city—the boys sandwiched between Robert and myself—with him carrying all our traveling possessions in a small suitcase, and me still holding Tori. From the countless times I've made this trip, I've never been so jumpy—literally every noise has me on high alert. I know it's just my motherly instinct for newborns having been raised from the dead, but I'm still careful going around every corner, assessing each noise before proceeding.

All those noises I heard, of course, ended up being nothing. So, here we stand near the entrance to Fenway Park, the city many people call home.

Although Christmas isn't for another couple days, some of the guards are scurrying about, making ready for the holiday by dragging around trees—plastic, obviously—and boxes with lights and baubles in them. I forgot how much I used to love Christmas.

"You alright?" Robert interrupts my thoughts as I gaze around the city in awe.

"I'm great. Christmas was always one of my favourite holidays. I didn't get to celebrate it last year with everything being such a culture shock, but now… I'm glad you suggested coming here." I give him a one armed hug, trying not to jostle Victoria too much.

"Well, I guess we'll be staying at Home Plate until Christmas, huh?" I half shrug, half nod. "I'm gonna go put this away, then. Be right back. Wanna come with me?" he asks Duncan and Shaun. Shaun follows him as Duncan stays with me, gripping my belt loop with his small hand. I know he'd prefer to hold my hand, but he's being polite due to them being full at the moment.

"Well, if it isn't the sweetheart…" I hear from behind me. Turning around, I see a Diamond City guard with a box of lights in his hands. _I recognize that voice._

"Dick. It's been a while. I believe the last time we spoke was when I was getting married. I hate to rush you, but I'm sort of in a hurry. How can I help you?" I stare at the man in front of me with slowly forming snake eyes. However, there's no way to know how he's glaring back at me—his entire face is covered by his helmet, leaving his expression a mystery.

"Was that your wedding day? No wonder you were all dolled up. Your knockers weren't as big then." He looks me from top to bottom and back up again—the only way of knowing this is by how his head moves ever so slightly. "Say, you think your punk of a husband will let me hit your bases _now?_ " I'm shocked by what I hear next.

"You leave my mom alone!" Duncan pulls his combat knife from his own belt loop and starts aggressively walking toward him, his expression one of pure hatred—something I've yet to see on my six-year-old's face.

"Woah, woah! Duncan, c'mere." As soon as he hears me, he mellows out and reigns himself back in to my arm's length, replacing his knife in its place.

"Feisty bastard, isn't he?" Dick comments.

Although I really don't want to, I hand Tori to Duncan and face the irritating man again. "Listen," I tell him. "There's no need for you to harass me, so there's no need for you to go and get my son upset like that. I don't want to, but if I must, I will open up _the_ biggest can of whoop-ass you've ever felt in your life. I don't think you want that."

Even though Duncan's advance on Dick had him backing up slightly in fear, my threat proves to do absolutely nothing, as he just chuckles and says, "So, you like it kinky. Neat—me, too." I can imagine his cocky grin under his helm… and that's what does it for me.

I'm not sure where I pull it out from, but I spin around on my heel and roundhouse kick him in the back of the knee—hard enough to make him come tumbling down, like the giant ignoramus he is. As he lies on the ground, rubbing at his possibly torn tendons, I kneel next to him and continue where I left off previously. "You talk to me so much as one more time, you threaten my family, or even _breathe_ in my direction—I will finish the job. I may just be a mother and housewife to you, but _never_ forget this: I was the one who brought the Institute to their knees. Me, and my 'punk of a husband.' And as for Duncan here… well, you saw what he's willing to do." I stand and take Tori back from him before I change my mind and finish the job now. "Goodbye, Richard." I turn and walk without a backward glance.

* * *

"—you should've seen her," I hear Robert saying as I enter Home Plate. He turns his face from looking at Shaun to me and grins. "I was just telling him how beautiful you looked on our wedding day."

I grin back at him, although probably not for the same reason. "Well, isn't it just a memory-filled day all around…" He takes Victoria from me and looks up at me, concern on his face.

"What happened?" He glances to Duncan after a few seconds of my silence. He now asks him the same, "What happened?"

"Mom kicked some ass," the boy responds, a grin on his own face.

"Duncan, don't use language like that," I reprimand him.

"Sorry." He turns, finding Shaun, and starts to talk about something. I don't pay attention to their conversation though, as I'm too busy wondering why Robert's staring at me like he is.

"What did you do?" He rewraps Tori in her blanket as it'd gotten loose somehow.

"Well… speaking of our wedding day… Do you remember that guy that was harassing me?" His brows raise as he nods. "Well, he recognized me, and decided to try again. …So, I had to rough him up a bit." With his expression locked in place, he moves to the door and opens it slightly. He gazes out until he finds what he's looking for—Dick still lying on the ground, his comrades not even bothering to help him. _I guess they think his name suits him, too._

"You did that…" He closes the door and looks back at me. "How?"

"I… might have roundhouse kicked him in the back of the knee… And that may or may not have torn some tendons or ligaments of his…" He stares at me with incredulity, until he's distracted by Victoria crying.

"I think Vitya's hungry," he tells me as he hands her back to me. Once she's receiving her daily nutrients, Robert continues. "So, I guess we can head over to Nick's after she's done, huh?"

I nod, surprised he's let the whole Dick thing go already. But then he says, "And, uh… I _am_ curious how you did that. Like, for real, Beth. You just had a baby not even a week ago." I chuckle. "But, at the same time, I kinda don't wanna talk about it. He pissed me off last time—last thing I need is to get mad again because of that cun—er. Um… jerk. It is Christmas after all."

* * *

A little while later, we all head toward the Detective Agency. Although Duncan already knows, I decide to warn Shaun about Nick being a Gen 2 prototype. He's not at all upset—he just shrugs and grins, saying he'd be happy to know another prototype synth other than himself.

As I knock on the door—since Robert's holding Tori—I have the feeling that today is Ellie's day off—much like the last time we'd come here. And as Nick opens the door, I see my premonition was correct.

"Beth!" he calls, hugging me immediately. "It's been so long since you've been around. What brings you here?" He ushers us all in, not even realizing how many is in our party. Once we're all seated—Robert and I in the chairs opposite Ellie's desk, the boys on the floor, and Nick on the side of the desk—I answer him.

"Well, Christmas is right around the corner. Thought we'd bring the family and see the decorations—it was Robert's idea." I pat his knee.

"Oh, yes. The family. How is your little boy?" he asks Robert, completely oblivious to the bundled up baby in his arms.

" _Our_ boy is fine." He points to Duncan on the floor, who smiles up at the synth detective.

"Still love that dog?" Nick asks him. Duncan nods. And even though Shaun isn't two feet from him, Nick is still to notice his presence.

"Uh, Nick?" He looks back to me. "When I said family, I meant _all_ of us." I point to our synth child.

From what I can tell by his yellow optical eyes, Nick is shocked to see him. "Where did you come from, little man?"

"I'm from the Institute," Shaun answers. "Mom's real son was killed, but I'm here now. Mom says she likes me better anyway."

Nick glances back at me. "Is he saying he's a…?"

"A synth?" Shaun asks. "Yes, I am. I'm a prototype—they only made one synth that resembles a child. And that's me. Mom and Dad thought it'd be best to tell me my true identity. And I don't see anything wrong with being a synth. They love me just as much as my brother here." He smiles at Duncan, then at Nick. "I'm happy to have met another prototype synth." He stands and holds out his hand to the detective. Although Nick is confused at first, after a few seconds, he extends his own hand—the one missing skin—and shakes my son's hand. Shaun doesn't even blink or hesitate after seeing his boney hand—he just took it in stride as if he'd seen it before.

After Shaun sits back down on the floor by Duncan, Nick looks back to me. "So, you said all of you. Are there any more surprises up your sleeve?" I share a smile with Robert, who moves his head, motioning for Nick to come closer. Once he's sitting on this side of the desk, Robert uncovers Victoria, revealing her face. Nick's synthetic eyelids widen, showing us more of the optics behind them. "Did you find an orphan?" he asks, although by the look on his face, he already knows the answer.

Robert stands and shows her to him from a closer angle. "Nope. This one was homegrown. You did say we've been gone for a while." He holds her out a little bit. "Want to hold her?"

"I'm afraid I won't be soft enough to hold a newborn…"

"Don't worry about it, Nick. She'll be fine." I know to say Victoria will be fine, as opposed to Nick will be, due his worry solely being about her.

However hesitantly, he takes her in his metal arms and smiles down at her. "What's this angel's name?"

"Victoria," I tell him. "I call her Tori, and he won't stop calling her Vitya. So really, any of those work." I chuckle as he lifts her closer to his face, really inspecting her newborn features.

"Hello, Victoria. Hope you don't give Mom and Dad too much trouble."

"She doesn't," Robert says. "She sleeps through the night, rarely cries. It's almost like caring for a doll, she's so easy to take care of." I laugh. _Well, he's not lying._

"You have a fine family here. Hope your house is big enough, with three kids and a dog."

"And we're gonna get another dog soon!" Duncan says, his first sentence in a while.

"We never discussed that," Robert says, looking down at him. "We'll have to talk about it later." Duncan's shoulders slump as he casts his gaze to the floor, clearly upset at his father's rebuff.

"Well, congratulations, you two," Nick says. "I'm happy for you." He smiles as he looks back down to Tori.

* * *

After a long day of visiting Nick, then going to see Piper—and having to explain everything to her as well—we all head back to Home Plate, our abode for the next couple nights. It's decided that Duncan would take the love seat, Shaun would sleep on the couch, and Robert, Tori, and I would share the bed. I'm a bit nervous to have Victoria in bed with us—after hearing all the warnings when Shaun was a baby—but it's the only option we have at the moment, since her crib is at home, and there's no alternative here. But once morning comes, and I see that she's fine, I realize there's no reason to worry.

After grabbing some breakfast, we head over to the Dugout.

"MacCready!" Vadim greets him. "It's been a while." He looks to me, the boys. "I see your family has grown. Congratulations, _tovarishch_!" He notices me holding Tori. "And don't tell me you are a papa yet again." He walks around the counter—only due to it being a slow day. If it were busier, he wouldn't dare.

"This is Victoria, Vadim. And yes, I am a papa again," he chuckles.

I give him a sidelong glance. "Oh, c'mon. You're not even going to tell him what you call her?" His eyes widen, like he wasn't planning on it—like he's condemning me for even bringing it up. "I call her Tori, but he has a different nickname for her. Why don't you tell him, dear?" I smile at him.

"Yes, Robert. Why don't you tell me?" Vadim now smiles at him, playing along with me.

Robert clears his throat. "So, when I'm not calling her Victoria—"

"Which is hardly ever," I cut in.

He gives me a look and continues. "…I call her Vitya." This makes Vadim burst out laughing, making the subject of our conversation jump slightly.

Once Vadim has laughed enough to get it out of his system, he stops, and with a dead serious face says, "You do know 'Vitya' is a boy's name, yes?"

" _Da_ , _da_ ," Robert says, seeming annoyed with the bartender.

Vadim continues, "I see the resemblance between Victoria and Vitya, but it is an odd choice, _poputchik_. Were you wanting a son so badly?" He laughs again.

"No, Vadim. I was actually the one who wanted a girl _and_ named her, thank you very much." I chuckle at him, thinking about how long it's been since he's gotten mad over something so small.

We spent the next couple hours visiting with the Bobrov brothers and whoever else we knew in the bar. Shaun and Duncan also wanted to go for a walk around the city, see all there was to offer—and even some that wasn't offered to the public's eye, the little trespassers.

Once arriving back at Home Plate, we all decided it'd be a good idea to stay until Christmas morning, then head back home. This way, we could spend our first holiday at home as a family. So, this is exactly what we do.

We'd seen all the lights, all the trees Diamond City had to offer. We visited all our friends and acquaintances—and even beat a man down—while we were there. Now we are headed home.

"Sorry we didn't get you anything," I tell Duncan and Shaun, trying my best to hide the truth. _Don't look under the cot. Please, don't look under the cot._

"It's fine, Mom. We don't need anything." Duncan smiles toward his father who is holding Tori. "Vitya's all we need, I think."

"Not you, too," I joke. Looking to Robert, "Did you tell him to start calling her that?"

He chuckles. "No. But it caught on anyway. Soon enough, you'll be the odd woman out."

"Don't worry," Shaun says. "I like Victoria, so I won't call her Vitya, okay?"

"Aw, the prize son." I hug him, earning a snarky grin from Duncan, who knows I'm just messing around with him.

When we reach home, the boys take off, happy to be back. Robert and I take this as a good time to hide their presents. Running to Danse's house quickly, we ask if we can hide them under his couch or something, lest they be found under our own. Once they're placed, we head home—and are surprised when we walk into the living room.

By the liquor cabinet is a plastic Christmas tree, much like those in Diamond City. It has lights, ornaments—everything. "Who did this?" I ask the air, not aiming it toward anyone specifically.

"I betcha Danse did it," Shaun says, both he and Duncan standing near the centuries old holiday symbol, staring up at it like it's the first time they've seen one.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Robert says, handing Victoria over to me to be fed.

A few hours later, the sun is on its descent, nighttime approaching quickly. While Shaun and Duncan are outside playing, Robert and I go to Danse's house to retrieve their gifts. While we're there, I ask him about the tree.

"So, Danse. There happens to have been an elf running loose around the island, leaving Christmas trees in people's living rooms. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

He freezes as his eyes go wide, knowing he's been caught. "No, I don't think so," he says.

I smile at him. "Okay. Just thought I'd ask." With the boys' gifts in hand, Robert and I turn to leave. But, right before I walk out behind him, I turn back and tell Danse, "Thanks, anyway. You don't know how much it means to us. Why don't you come over for dinner in about an hour or two? I'm making roast beef." Smiling, I leave the house.

* * *

"Boys!" I hear Robert call as I walk into the house. "Come into the living room, please!" And at his call, they start running down the hall upstairs like a herd of wild animals. They come barreling down the stairs, and nearly collide with each other before finally coming to a full stop in front of us near the group of armchairs. "We have a surprise for you two." They look perplexed.

"Here." I hand the big package wrapped in old newspapers to Duncan as I hand a similarly wrapped bundle to Shaun.

They take the gifts, but still look confused. "You said you didn't get us anything," Shaun says, looking at the present in his hands.

"White lies don't hurt on the occasion," I tell them. "Go ahead. Open them."

Duncan starts to open his first, and with moderate speed—until he sees what's inside. "Jangles!" He then rips the rest of the newspaper off and hugs the stuffed monkey close to him. "Thank you! How'd you know I've been wanting one?"

"Lucky guess." I look to Robert and wink as he grins at me. _Lucky guess,_ I chuckle internally. _He doesn't have to know I had an insider for that one, now does he?_ "Your turn, Shaun."

In a much more tempered pace than his brother, Shaun takes the paper off his gift. Looking up at me, he says, "A screwdriver and an adjustable wrench." He doesn't want to seem disappointed, but still can't completely reign in his slightly disheartened tone. "Um… thanks." He tries his best to smile at me and his dad.

"Oh, Shaun," I laugh. "You don't know the half of it. Have you not seen what's under the tree? Or rather, behind it—the thing's so large." He spins around to look at what I'm talking about. This is when his reaction matches Duncan's.

"Oh, wow!" He goes up to the tree and digs out the Giddyup Buttercup from behind the tree. "I've always liked these things."

"And you like to take stuff apart, right?" I ask him—he nods. "Well, that's what those tools are for. Not only can you play with Buttercup, but if it ever acts up—or you're just curious what its insides look like—you can find out. Maybe even upgrade it." He comes back over to me, dropping his two tools onto a chair, and gives me a hug.

"Thank you, Mom." He glances over to Robert. "Thanks, Dad."

"Hey, don't look at me. It was all your mom's idea." He goes into the kitchen—still holding Tori—and starts searching in the fridge.

"Don't you dare eat anything, Robert Joseph! I'm making dinner in a few minutes." On the other side of the wall, I hear him grunt and close the refrigerator door with a little too much force, making me giggle.

* * *

About an hour after giving the boys their presents, the roast beef is done and sitting on the table.

"Are we waiting for something?" Duncan asks, clearly hungry and impatient.

"I was, but I guess we don't have to wait any longer. Dig in, boys." I take Victoria from her dad and head toward the door. Seeing nothing but night sky, I feel a little disappointed. _I was sure Danse was coming. Oh, well…_ At about this time, I hear a knock on the back screen door. Walking down the hall, I see Danse's face on the other side. "Well, about time you showed. Why use the back door, though?" Because I hadn't opened the door yet, he still stands on the other side. "Oh, you practically live here, too. Just come in," I chuckle.

"Who is it, Mom?" Shaun asks, his mouth full of food.

"None other than your uncle," Danse says as he walks in.

"Danse!" Duncan gets up and runs straight to him, pretty much climbing him like a tree.

"Hey, buddy." He ruffles his hair and sets him down. "Your mom invited me over for dinner. Sorry, I seem to be tardy—lost track of time."

"It's no problem," Robert says. "Didn't even know she invited you over. Must've been after I left."

Once he's gotten his own plate and a seat in between his two favourite nephews of sorts, I spill the beans. "Duncan, Shaun. Why don't you thank him for the Christmas tree, since I'm pretty sure he put it there—even though he won't admit to it."

They look at him as if he randomly turned into a tree himself. "Did you?" Shaun asks.

After heavy sighing, Danse nods. "I wanted you guys to have a good Christmas this year—what with this being your first as a family, and Vitya just having been born." I give him a _Not you, too_ look, to which he gives me an apologetic expression.

"Well, gee, Danse," Shaun continues, having missed our silent exchange, "thanks a ton. I know I love it." Duncan nods his agreement, his mouth too full to even breathe normally.

"Duncan, you're gonna die face-first in a plate of roast beef if you don't slow down. Take smaller bites." Somehow, he still manages to frown at my words around all the food.

The rest of dinner went well—Danse said it was about the best meal he's ever had, Duncan finally started eating like a human being instead of a wild boar. After everybody had finished up, Danse wanted to hold Victoria, so I took this time to fetch his own Christmas present while Robert started on the dishes. "Here." I hand it to him.

"What's this?" He adjusts Tori and takes the newspaper lined gift.

"It's Christmas. Can't forgot about my best friend." He smiles at me, still a bit confused, while he balances the package on his leg and opens it with one hand.

"A chessboard?" He turns the box over, looking at the back. "With actual chess pieces. I didn't think any of these things survived."

"Well, it wasn't easy to find. I remember you talking about wanting to learn how to play. Think you can help him out, Shaun?" He looks up at me, clearly having missed our conversation.

"Help who with what?"

"Teach Danse how to play chess?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure." He looks back down to his magazine.

Victoria's been working on getting fussy, so Danse hands her back to me and continues to look at the box in his hands. "Thank you so much. I wish I could have gotten you something, too."

"Don't be ridiculous. You got us the tree, you're the best uncle slash godfather in the world, and you agreed to not make me kill you and to move here." I smile at him. "You already gave me your gift."

* * *

Shortly after giving Danse his present, he went home. Probably too many emotions for him to handle. But the boys went right to sleep—Duncan hugging his new Jangles toy, Shaun wishing he could hug his own giant metal horse in bed. I was just so tired from the trip and today's events, that I left Tori with Robert and went to bed early. I faintly hear when he comes in.

After putting her in her crib, I feel him crawl into bed, wrapping his arms around me. But I'm not too happy with my back to him, so I turn over and slide my own arm over his side.

He makes a small noise of contentment and kisses my forehead. "Vitya's been good tonight." I nod my head against his chest, too tired to speak. "Man, you must be exhausted, not even wanting to talk." I grin, although I doubt he can see it in the dim light of the candle and with me this close to him. He wipes some hair out of my face.

"Babe?" I ask.

"Ah, she does speak." I chuckle. "What?"

"I forgot to give you something." I go to stand but he tightens his hold on me, preventing me from leaving.

"If it's one of your Christmas presents, you can forget about it. I don't need anything—hell, I don't _want_ anything. You already gave me more than I deserve."

"Hush," I tell him, trying again to get up, and succeeding this time. I come back with a small box in my hand. "Open it." He gives me a slightly frustrated face, but takes it and does as instructed. He opens it and is faced with a small yet decent sized matching notebook and pen set. He glances up at my face, seeming confused. "You love Poe's works so much, I thought maybe you'd want to start writing some of your own short stories or poems. If you don't, then you can always use it for something else—" I'm cut off by being caught in one of his massive hugs.

"Thank you. I love it." He lets go suddenly, sets his present down on the mattress and takes off to the bureau. Coming back, he has a small bag—a satchel, really—in his grasp. Silently, he hands it to me.

"I didn't know we forgot half our family's presents tonight," I chuckle. Taking the satchel from him, I slip the string off it and pour its contents out. It's a pendant on a long, silver chain—the pendant seeming to be a dark blue, almost violet coloured gemstone.

"It's called 'tanzanite.' At least, that's what Becky called it back at Fallon's. She said it's one of Vitya's birthstones. I was thinking about giving it to her, but what's a baby gonna do with something like that?" I look up at him as he grins.

"How much did you pay for this? Gems are expensive…" Even though the size is small, it still must have cost an arm and a leg.

"Not too bad, actually. The value of gems aren't what they used to be." He takes it from me and clasps the chain around my neck. "I was thinking maybe we can give it to her when she's older—when she can appreciate it."

I smile, looking toward Victoria, safe and sound asleep. "I think that's a good idea," I whisper.

* * *

 _A/N: Dick came back. So, that's a thing._

 _I really do love Christmas as well. I had fun writing this chapter due to it._


	43. 42 Full of Surprises

42\. Full of Surprises

Beth POV

Ever since coming back from Diamond City for Christmas a couple months ago, we haven't left home. I still sorta want to stay here at home, but I can tell I'm getting antsy—I need to go somewhere. When I told Robert this, he seemed pleased, and wanted to go with me—wherever I was headed. So, we left the boys back home with their favourite uncle and are now on our way—with Tori—to the Prydwen.

 _Been a while since I've been here,_ I think as I climb aboard the Vertibird. Once on the flight deck, I feel how comfortable I am here—almost like another home. A Knight greets me on the way into the command deck. "You've done a heck of a job, Sentinel. Ad victorium!" I nod back to them and proceed, Robert and Victoria behind me.

"Did I hear something about our Sentinel?" I hear Maxson boom out. Before he can get an answer, he sees me. "Beth! I'm pleased to see you again. How's…" He waves his hand at me, indicating the lack of baby inside me. "How's everything?" he settles.

"'Everything' is fine," I tell him. Robert steps up next to me, gaining his attention immediately. I smile at his expression—a mixture of fear and amazement. "You can hold her, Arthur—if you want." He glances up at me, that fear growing slightly.

"I've never held a baby before. I'm afraid I'll hurt her."

I chuckle. "Like I haven't heard that one before. Don't be so scared. You're the leader of the Brotherhood, for God's sake." I take our daughter from my husband's arms, the former wide awake and staring at the bearded man with round eyes—the blue eyes that she inherited from both her parents. "See? Just like this." I hand her to him.

"What's her name?" he asks while having a stare down with her.

"Victoria," Robert answers. "Tori and Vitya for nicknames. Just _not_ Vicki. We hate that name." I nod my agreement.

"'Vitya,'" he chuckles. "Strange of you to choose a Russian nickname from a Latin name."

I lean over to Robert's shoulder. "Told you."

"You've been telling me for two months. I know. Trust me."

After a minute, the Elder gathers my attention by asking, "So, is there a specific reason why you stopped by today? Other than showing off your daughter, that is."

"Got bored of staying at home. And, it's been a while since I've been back—been wondering if I have any tasks or jobs to complete."

"You're a Sentinel now. You make your own missions. The last job you _had_ to take was as a Paladin. You wouldn't have to step foot on the Prydwen for years, and you'd still hold rank."

I'm shocked. "Oh. I didn't know that. I just figured I was on leave and would have to report back sooner or later."

Robert pats me on the shoulder. "I'm going to go get some clips from Teagan. Be back after a while." I nod as he leaves his wife and daughter with the brooding man he used to all but hate.

"I've been mulling over an idea in my head, Beth," Maxson starts. "I've mentioned it in passing with Lancer-Captain Kells, but not as in depth as I wish." He reaches his semi-gloved hand up to Tori's head—as if to feel her hair or something—but drops it and continues. "The Capital Wasteland holds no meaning for me anymore. It is where I grew up—in the confines of the Citadel—" He sees my confusion at his term and rewords it. "—in the Pentagon.

"Ever since Elder Lyons passed, and his daughter rose to prominence, everything was different. Not always a bad different, but altered nonetheless. Then she was killed in the line of duty, and everything really _did_ change. I didn't know who to trust—and becoming Elder at sixteen years of age would just make this more difficult for me.

"Nobody back 'home' is someone I call friend—or even something as simple as comrade. Coming to the Commonwealth proved me right: that I can live away from the Citadel and be fine. I can still be the East Coast's Elder, just from a more comfortable distance. And now with the Institute eradicated, it seems a more suitable home for me than I originally anticipated."

I swear that was the longest dialogue he's ever given to just one person about anything personal. "So, Arthur. Are you saying you're staying here?"

"Yes. About half of the patrols will head back to the Capital Wasteland—both on board and on the ground." He clears his throat and speaks quietly. "You can tell Danse he doesn't have to worry as much about being snuffed out now." I feel my face fall into a round formation. "I got curious," he continues, "and asked Scribe Haylen where she thought he was. She said your island. Beth, don't be fearful about my telling a soul. I'm sure he helps quite a bit around there. He always had when he was with us."

And just like that, the Elder seemed to have gotten over his aversion to Danse being a synth.

To change the subject, I ask, "You said there's nobody back in DC for you. Do you not have a partner?" He looks down from my face to Victoria's, and shakes his head. "Well, hopefully you can find one here. You're a good man, Arthur. Shame to let all that husband material go to waste. And dare I say, _father_ material. Tori's been quite calm with you this whole time." I gaze at her face, now sleeping instead of holding a staring contest with the man.

"Well, I suppose we'll find out one of these days, yes?" He hands my daughter back to me. "I'm not sure if the Prydwen's to stay here, or to travel back to the Citadel—but I'm curious: could you help me find a place to live until I figure all this out?"

I smile. _He's asking me for advice._ "I'd be honoured."

* * *

In return for helping Arthur find somewhere to live, I asked for a favour—a simple one, really. I asked for a book. But not any book. He personally walked me to Proctor Quinlan and granted my request easily enough.

Now, Tori, Robert, and I are in Danse's old quarters—it and all his belongings having been given to me when I took his place as Paladin, so to say.

"I have something for you," I tell him, grabbing his attention away from his Vitya.

"And what's that?" I hand him the book I got a while before retiring for the night. " _A Spanish-English Book of Translations for Dummies._ " He looks up at me. "Really?"

"You're always complaining how you don't know what I'm saying in Spanish. Well, now you can't complain anymore. Just look it up." I take Victoria from him and place her in the metal bin at the foot of the bed. There were a few blankets in it, so one is now on the bed, the others unfolded into a soft pallet for our daughter inside the bin. "Better than nothing," I comment on her makeshift crib. "Well, see you in the morning."

* * *

 _I don't remember there being this many stairs,_ I think as I ascend the Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City. But once I open the last door, the view sprawled out in front of me makes it all worth it. _Shame I haven't been back here since I was with Nate._

I'm sitting on the edge of what I'd call a viewing platform when Robert finally joins me.

"Took you long enough to climb those stairs," I tease him. He smiles and moves up behind me, looking at Mexico City before us. "This view is one I'll never get tired of."

"The view of the city?" he asks.

"Yeah. All the city life—the people, the buildings. The _food._ " I smile and close my eyes. "Want to get some tacos when we're done? I know a great place not too far from here."

"Sure. But maybe we should get down first. I'd hate to fall off this thing."

"Good idea." I swing my legs off the edge and stand up. "Can't wait for those tacos." He guides me back through the door we'd come in and start our descent down the monument.

* * *

MacCready POV

 _Sleepwalk_ by Santo  & Johnny

I wake up to the noise of Vitya quietly cooing to herself and smile at the sound. _She's just_ so _content all the time._ I roll over to put my arm around Beth, but come up with an empty space—although it's still warm. Sitting up instantly, I look around the room—maybe expecting Vitya to be making noise due to Beth messing with her. But, no. She's nowhere in the room.

"Beth?" I call out quietly. Nothing.

I creak open the door to see a single Knight patrolling the area. Closing the door to, I quickly pull on my pants and duster and leave Victoria in her bed. _She'll be fine right there,_ I think as I go out onto the main deck. "Excuse me?" I ask the Knight. "Have you seen the Sentinel anywhere?"

The suit of power armour affirms they had, and that she'd taken off toward the forecastle in search of some fresh air. Making my way up the stairs, I open the door and indeed find Beth. She's sitting on the edge of the railing, her legs on the outside—able to fall to the ground at a moment's notice.

"Beth?" She turns and looks at me. Her eyes are open, but they have an odd look in them—as if she's looking somewhere far off.

"Took you long enough to climb those stairs," she says, a teasing grin appearing on her face. I feel my face scrunch together in confusion. _What is she on about?_ I move up behind her, not quite trusting her. As she turns and continues to look out into the night, she adds, "This view is one I'll never get tired of."

Suddenly, I realize she's still asleep. That she must be sleepwalking, and is seeing something totally different than I am. I'd heard to just go with it when people are asleep. They can get hurt if you try to wake them. So, I do just that—go along with her illusions.

"The view of the city?" I glance at her grip on the railing, and am at least pleased to see that it seems tight enough to not fall immediately.

"Yeah. All the city life—the people, the buildings. The _food._ " She smiles. "Want to get some tacos when we're done? I know a great place not too far from here." _Tacos? What is that?_

I again go along with it. "Sure. But maybe we should get down first. I'd hate to fall off this thing." I look down to the ground—much further than I'd prefer it be.

She finally comes down from her perch and stands next to me. "Good idea. Can't wait for those tacos." She loops her arm through mine as we leave the forecastle.

As we're walking down the stairs—headed back to her quarters—I hear Victoria crying. Of course, Beth wouldn't wake up when she left the room in the first place, or even when she sat on the railing or held a conversation with me. But, as soon as she hears Vitya, she wakes up. The distant look in her eyes clears, and she glances around, looking confused at her surroundings. She doesn't let this slow her, though, as she goes right into the room to tend to her baby.

Almost as soon as she walks through the door—with me right behind her—we hear Vitya's cries cease. And I'm shocked to see the reasoning behind it.

"Arthur?" Beth asks, surprised to find him in the room, holding our daughter.

He spins and greets us quietly. "I'm sorry to have just barged in, but she'd been crying for the better part of ten minutes. And since my quarters are adjacent, I couldn't just sit idly by."

Beth looks at the time on her Pip-Boy, still sitting on the counter next to the door, and moves toward the Elder. "It's around the time I feed her." She takes her from him and looks up at the man. "I'm sorry about all this. I had a bout of sleepwalking, it seems." She gazes at me.

"Perfectly normal," Maxson replies. "I'll just, uh, be on my way. Goodnight." He walks out the door, closing it gently behind him.

After he's gone, Beth continues to feed the baby girl, sitting on the bed, seeming perplexed—and with good reason. "What happened?" she asks me after a few minutes.

"I woke up and you were gone," I tell her. "One of the Knights said you had left a few minutes before I asked about you, and that you said you were going to the forecastle for some night air. You seemed to have been awake to them.

"I then found you sitting on the railing outside there. Scared me at first." I think about the only other time either of us had sat on any ledge of sorts, and shudder at the reason. "Anyway," I continue. "I realized you were still asleep and led you back here. You didn't even wake until you heard Vitya crying."

She chuckles. "Mothers are supposed to wake up when their children cry—it's an instinct. It's just bred into us." She thinks for a moment before asking, "What was I dreaming about?"

"No clue. About something called 'tacos?'" She laughs. "What?"

"Oh, man. I _do_ miss tacos! Apparently, I miss tacos in my dreams, too." She chuckles, just to come to a stop. "Wait." She looks up at me. "Why did you leave Tori here?"

"I thought she'd be fine for a few minutes by herself. Besides, I didn't even know where you went, and I needed to find you." I look at Vitya. "It all turned out okay in the end. No worries."

It seems like she wants to argue about it further— _It's_ not _all okay,_ her eyes say—but she just rolls them and lets it go. She places Victoria back in the bin at the foot of the bed and climbs onto the mattress. "Well, let's hope that won't happen again. Goodnight. Again."

* * *

 _A/N: The whole sleepwalk thing started as a one-shot idea, but ended up in this instead. Funny how things work._


	44. 43 The Family Trip

_A/N: This and the following chapter started as a simple idea, and blossomed into my two largest chapters. I apologize for their length, but I had a blast writing them. I loved FO3 so much, and got a bit carried away with myself._

* * *

43\. The Family Trip

MacCready POV

 _Way Back Home_ by Bob Crosby and the Bobcats

It's been a whopping four months since Beth and I visited the Prydwen last. Vitya is now six months and exploring solid foods—things like crushed mutfruit and, unfortunately, Cram. _It's the only thing I can think of that will work right now,_ Beth had told me. Victoria seems to enjoy it, though—and with her mother's addiction to it while pregnant, it's not that hard to imagine why.

I've been getting a little fidgety recently, and of course, Beth can tell. She's asked me why, but I'm not even sure myself. She offered that we take a week and visit Diamond City, but I don't feel like it would help all that much.

We're sitting up in bed at the moment, preparing to turn in for the night, when she sets her book to the side and looks at me. "I think I know what it is."

"What what is?" I ask, the conversation having ended hours ago.

"Why you've been anxious recently." She takes her eyeglasses off and lays them on her read. Lying her head down on the pillow facing me, she expands. "I wonder if you miss home."

"I'm home right now?" I look around the room, indicating what has been my home for a good, long while.

"No. I meant DC." As I slide down into bed more, she rests her forehead against my arm while wrapping her own arms around it. This makes it sort of difficult to hear her—but I still manage somehow. "It's where you've spent most of your life. It's pretty much all you've known. I bet you miss it—even if you don't realize it." I brush some of the hair from her face in hopes of hearing her more clearly. And so she can maybe breathe a little.

"Well, I've never really thought about it. This is our home now," I tell her, meaning Duncan and I. "I mean, sure. I did live there for over twenty years, but I don't think it's a big deal."

As we lay in silence for a few minutes, I start to feel her head drop and her grip on my arm loosen. Not a couple seconds later, I can hear her soft snores. I chuckle and pull the duvet over her. I've always liked to watch her sleep, this time being no different.

Her bottom lip juts out ever so slightly as she scoots a little closer to me. I pull my arm out of her grasp and wrap it around her back. This wakes her up a little bit, but she falls back to sleep easily after she fits herself against my side.

* * *

"You know what?" I ask Beth in the morning as she serves up some Mirelurk omelets for breakfast. The boys are sitting on ready for the grub, seated around the dining table. Beth shakes her head as I spoon Vitya another spoonful of her own breakfast: crushed mutfruit. "I began to think last night after you went to sleep—about me missing DC?"

"Oh, yeah?" She loads up a big plate, family style, and delivers it to the table for Shaun and Duncan to tuck into. "What about it?"

"Maybe— _maybe_ —we can go visit. See if you're right. Think of it as a vacation."

"But what if you _do_ miss it? Will we pack up and move?" She grabs a serving of the fluffy egg stuff herself.

"Oh, no. No, don't worry about that. I guess I'll just… deal with it." I give Victoria another bite.

"I don't want you to have to just deal with it," Beth continues. "I probably shouldn't have brought it up…"

"No. I think it _is_ a good idea. We could go to Megaton, see Kate. I know Duncan would love that." I glance over at the boy, who apparently has been listening in, as he nods wildly, omelet halfway hanging out of his mouth. "What has your mother told you about big bites?" I ask him.

He looks shamefaced as he slowly spits out half of it. "To not to."

"Mhmm." I grin at the saying he'd picked up from Ellis, as much as his expression before continuing. "Shaun's has never met them, and they've never met Vitya. It'd be fun for everyone." I snap my finger at an idea. "We could even see if Danse wants to tag along. It's been so long since he's even left the island, I think it'd do him some good to get away." This causes both of the boys opposite me to nod in agreement.

Out of every objection Beth could make, she goes with, "What if someone from the Brotherhood sees him? It wouldn't go well. He's dead to everyone—except Haylen and Arthur, of course."

"What're the chances of bumping into a random squad of Brotherhood soldiers? Plus, I've never seen them in Rivet City _or_ Megaton. Fat chance," I conclude. "We could ask him and let him decide?" She reluctantly nods. "Alright. I'll go ask after breakfast."

"We haven't even fully decided if we're going ourselves yet." She takes a drink of her milk. Literally, _her_ milk. Milk is stupid to find these days when a brahmin isn't nearby.

"Sounded like we had to me." I look to Duncan and Shaun, still eating—although I know they're listening. "Would you guys want to go?"

"Yes!" they say in unison around the mouthfuls they currently have.

"See? They want to. I want to. And I think—" I move my head in closer to Victoria. "And… I think Vitya wants to, too. Yeah, she just told me she does."

Duncan laughs. "Dad! Vitya can't talk yet!"

I mock glare at him. "Shh!" He just giggles more. "C'mon, Mom!" I say to Beth. "Can we go? Please? It kind of _was_ your idea in the first place."

She looks at me with a sort of exhausted expression, knowing darn well that I have the boys to back me up on the begging part, if need be. Finally, she rolls her eyes, and says, "Alright. I guess we can head out in a few days." This makes Shaun and Duncan erupt into celebration. They jump up from their chairs and dash upstairs, leaving their breakfasts to get cold. And from the sounds of things up there, they're already packing. Beth just rolls her eyes again. "We can go ahead and ask Danse. I think _that_ was a good idea. I bet he'd love to go."

"Pretty sure he would," I agree. I scoop up a plate of the egg dish myself finally, with Vitya being full.

"Yeah. And what was with making poor little Victoria agree with you?" Beth asks, grinning at me in a snarky way. "You know she doesn't know any better."

"Or does she?" I counter. "Maybe she did agree with me and you didn't hear it. She is a daddy's girl after all." I tickle her as I see her staring at me. "Aren't you? You're a daddy's girl, huh? Yes, you are!" She just laughs under my tickle attack, totally digging it.

Watching Vitya laugh and flail her arms around, Beth chuckles as she gathers the boys' plates up. "That she is. For. Sure. But, I swear—you and your tickling. I'm starting to see a pattern forming. You like tickling girls." She points at me accusingly, earning a guilty grin.

* * *

After breakfast, I end up going to Danse's house and asking if he wants to accompany us to the Great Wasteland of Capitals. He obliges, saying he'd be happy to. He's now at our own house, discussing arrangements.

"I think it'd be best if I left my power armour here," he says, shocking both Beth and I.

"But you're more comfortable in it," Beth points out, just as confused as I am.

"True," he responds. "But since I'm going to be in the heart of the East Coast Brotherhood's territory, it'd be best to not wear it. If anybody there would even recognize me now, it certainly wouldn't help if I were to take my X-01. They're so used to seeing me in power armour constantly, it would really throw them off if I crossed paths with them in civilian attire."

"Never thought of it like that," I tell him. "That's actually really smart."

"Well, you know what they say: survival of the fittest. The fit aren't always dumb. Takes just as much brains to make it out here." He goes to pick Victoria up, who is currently sitting in between the three of us on the floor. He rests her on his knee. "You know, I haven't seen her crawl or anything yet. Am I missing out or something?" I swear his tone sounds disappointed.

"Not yet," Beth replies. "I'm telling you, Shaun tried crawling at three months. But Tori? Nothing. She just likes to sit and watch us. _Always_ watching us. It's comical—her facial expressions. She acts like she's soaking up so much info from us, like she's the most absorbent and durable sponge in the world." She laughs. "Whoever's in the room clearly has her attention. And if there's more than one… Well, I'm just glad she can't turn her head fast enough to get whiplash. She can never make up her mind on who to watch."

"Sounds like she's going to be smart." Vitya looks up at him, as if she knows she's the subject of our conversation. "That's right—I'm talking about you. You're gonna be quite the little cookie. What with how much Mom and Dad read. And your brothers." He grins and puffs air out his nose in amusement. "You got it made, Vitya."

Although Beth used to cringe at my chosen nickname for our daughter, she doesn't seem to hate it as much now. The second time Danse had called her that, she gave him a look, earning an, _I'm sorry! It's just catchy!_ To see if she picks it up herself, though, remains to be seen.

* * *

Luckily, when we made our trip to Fallon's a while back, we picked up some extra clothes for me—and in turn for Danse. They were always a little big on me, but him? Well… they fit _him_ fine _._

We loaded up the boat with a couple extra makeshift cots, plenty of fuel, food, ammo, and took off first thing in the morning. But Beth and her nerves… It took some heavy duty explaining how everything was going to be fine.

"Danse more than likely won't be recognized. And pretty much the only defenseless one here is Victoria." I mean, c'mon. Three adults armed with rifles, and two kids armed with a pistol and a combat knife. Who dare mess with us? "So, that takes care of all your worries: creatures, animals, humans—even the Brotherhood. You stress too much." She nodded her head in agreement and tried to think of something else.

A couple days later, we arrive at Rivet City. Since it's after dusk, we decide to stay the night and leave for Megaton shortly before dawn. Thankfully, there's a room with two double beds in it, so it can comfortably fit all six of us—Beth, Vitya, and myself in one, Danse and the boys in the other. But before too long, Beth and I are woken up by someone crying out suddenly.

I hop up and run to the light switch and flick it on. Danse is sitting up, sweating pretty hard, clearly wakened from a bad dream.

The boys are still fast asleep as Beth leaves Victoria on the bed to go and sit next to her former colleague. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just… a recurring dream," he responds. "Thought I'd be used to it by now," he says quietly, as if not wanting her to hear.

"How long has this been going on?" She hands him a small rag to wipe his brow with.

"Not really sure. Few months maybe? A year? I don't know."

"And you haven't told me?" She sounds hurt by his keeping it a secret. I go and sit back down next to Victoria and continue to watch their exchange.

"Didn't think I'd need to. It started out not such a big deal, but now…" He lets his eyes wander.

"You wanna talk about it? Maybe that can help it go away?"

He says, "Maybe it will." After this, I lay down, holding Vitya's soft, little hand as she sleeps in order to give them a shred of privacy. He continues:

"I'm always in the wastes—DC, the Commonwealth—always one or the other. But I'm always in the middle of nowhere. No people are around—no settlements, no Brotherhood patrols. Just me. Until I see this woman. She's standing with her back to me, and all I can see is her hair. She's quite a ways from me, but I'm happy to see another person _finally_. So, I start going toward her. But every step I take leads me further from her. She suddenly pops up right in front of me, scaring the crap out of me. I'm always expecting it, I just don't know when. But that's not the only reason she freaks me out. She also has the face of a machine—not even like a Gen 1 or 2 synth—but just a machine. An angry one, at that." I hear him move under the sheets a little, uncomfortable with talking about it. "I always wake up then. Like I said, it used to not bother me. But just the fact that it won't go away… I know it has to mean something—just what? I think that's why it scares me so much anymore. I don't know what it means."

I hear Beth pat him on the shoulder. "I don't know what it means, either," she says, "but hopefully you can put it to rest now that you've talked about it with someone." She stands. "Try to get some rest. We have a decent walk ahead of us tomorrow." A moment after she turns the light off, she slides into bed on the other side of Vitya. She knows I've been listening, as she makes a face, not quite sure what to do about Danse's little problem.

However, the rest of the night is peaceful, and we leave for Megaton shortly before dawn, as planned—right after telling security that our boat isn't a problem—much as we had last time we'd come.

* * *

Once we left the giant tub of a town, Danse pointed out where three super mutant hives used to be—but thankfully, they were empty. He told Beth that the Brotherhood had been working on eradicating them for years upon years, and that it had finally started to take some effect. We did run into some radroaches and wild curs, but nothing five armed people couldn't handle.

When we finally get near Megaton, Duncan can't take it anymore, and bolts toward the walled settlement. I hand Vitya to Beth and chase after him, afraid there may be some radscorpions around—which, thankfully, there aren't.

He manages to get to the DeLorias' door before I can get to him, so he pounds on it. When I catch up—more out of breath than I'd like to admit—I tell him, "Don't run off like that—you scared me. We left Mom and them behind." About this time, Kate opens the door.

"Hey! You guys are here again! Hasn't even been all that long since last time." She crouches down to give Duncan the hug he's been longing for, literally _bouncing_ in place for. Standing up, she stretches her arms around me. "Good to see you again, Robert."

"Good to see you, too," I smile at her.

"Well, Ellis is at school right now, and Butch started to do hair again on the side, so he's at work. But listen to me prattle on. Don't be shy, boys. This is your house just as much as it is mine when you're here. Come on in!"

"Actually," I start. "We should probably stay out here for a minute. See, Duncan here sprinted ahead, making me run after him, and we left our group."

"You have a group?" Kate asks, casually placing her hand on her hip in disbelief. "Since when does Robert Joseph MacCready travel in _groups_?"

"Ever since my family expanded tenfold," I laugh. I hear Danse boom out about how dumpy the town is and chuckle. "Speak of the devil," I say under my breath. "They there are."

A second later, Beth—still holding Vitya—walks around the corner of the house, Danse and Shaun on her tail.

"As I live and breathe!" Kate exclaims, practically running to the new guests as they walk up to the door. Giving Beth a hug, she says, " _Mrs._ MacCready. Robert told me you two had gotten married last time he and Duncan were here—practically shoved his ring in my face." She laughs. "I believe last time we met, you two were just starting to get serious." She turns toward me and winks, making me chortle quietly. "And who is this precious little thing?" She pretty much rips the baby from Beth's arms—gently, but still. "He told me you were pregnant, see. I just couldn't wait to meet the new MacCready. And here she is!"

"This is our Victoria," I tell her as I walk up behind her, chuckling from her exuberance. Vitya stares at Kate, studying her features long and hard—not having a fit or causing a disturbance from her being a stranger.

"She's beautiful," she tells us. "Has her mommy and daddy's blue eyes. And gorgeous strawberry blonde locks. Wonder which way it'll swing when she's older—redhead or blonde?" She shrugs, looking down at her. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see." She kisses her forehead and passes her to me before asking who the other two unfamiliar faces are.

"This is my son, Shaun," Beth says, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Took a while to find him, but I think it payed off. He's a great kid."

Shaun stretched his hand out to Kate. "Shaun MacCready. Nice to meet you." Kate shakes his hand then looks at me, like, _MacCready?_ "I went ahead and took his last name, like Mom did when they married. He's my dad to me, so it made sense."

"How old are you?" Kate asks him.

"I'm eleven. Going to be twelve next month."

"Wow. You're so mature for your age, young man." She turns to the silent man in the back. "And you are?" She shakes his hand as well.

"Danse."

"With an _S_ ," Beth clarifies, "not a _C._ Don't make the same mistake I did when I first met him. Why, he was so mad, he chopped a bus in half."

"I did no such thing. Irritated, sure. But not mad. Either way," he turns his attention back to Kate. "I've heard good things about you. From both Beth and Robert—the Brotherhood as well."

"You have ties with the East Coast faction?" Kate asks, seeming surprised.

" _Had_ ties. It's… a long story."

"I like stories," Kate smiles. "How about you all come in and you can tell me about it, Danse."

* * *

Once Beth tells Kate that Shaun is actually _synth_ Shaun, and Danse is done telling his autobiography—of how he got into the Brotherhood, that he's a synth as well, and how he got _out_ of the Brotherhood—she's baffled. "I'm surprised Arthur let you go. Ever since becoming Elder, he's kept adamant rules. When he was a kid, not so much, but now… With you being a synth and all…"

"We were surprised, too," Beth chips in. She laughs, changing the subject. "I was actually surprised to find out that Maxson knew you back before you had Ellis."

"Oh, yes," Kate laughs. "Had an infatuation with Sarah Lyons, that boy did." Her grin disappears. "Well… back before she was killed." She clears her throat. "Anyway, he's a good kid. I refuse to see him as an adult or Elder—I've always known him as a Squire, so that's what he'll always be to me," she chuckles. About this time, Ellis crashes through the door, Butch not too far behind him. "Look who's here, honey!" Kate says excitedly.

Butch smiles and jokes in a playful and obvious tone, "I don't know half these people!"

So, with that, we go through the whole introduction thing again. Except this time around, Beth mentions how Danse is like an uncle to the boys, and how he's Vitya's godfather. Of course, they thought Vitya was a weird name—but who hadn't once they'd been told it?

Duncan is super excited to be with Ellis again, and proudly introduces Shaun—his big brother—to him. The two stranger boys shake hands and the three of them run upstairs to Ellis's room to play with who-knows-what. After they're gone, and Victoria doesn't have the kids to watch anymore, she just about folds herself into pretzel formation trying to reach for me from Beth's lap. Beth just laughs and hands her to me, making her content immediately as she plays with nothing but the hem of my shirt.

"Well," Kate chuckles. "Looks like you've got yourself a daddy's girl." She smiles at me.

"Little bit." I kiss the top of her head, gaining her attention. She looks up at me and smiles real big, showing her two bottom teeth that's been working on poking out for the past couple weeks. She buries her head in my chest, still smiling.

"She seems like a good kid," Butch notes.

"She really is," Beth answers. "She rarely cries unless something's just absolutely wrong. But she's mainly a watcher. Like, she watches what we're doing constantly."

"I was noticing that when the boys were down here," Kate comments. "She was so enthralled in their every movement."

"She's like that all the time," I tell them. "She hasn't started crawling yet, and she only babbles a little bit. Usually when we're talking to her. Couldn't ask for a better baby." She looks up at me, as if she knows I'm talking about her. "Yes, you," I tell her, chuckling a little.

For a minute, we all sit in silence, happy to be in each other's company. But then Beth speaks out. "So, guess whose birthday is in a few days?" I mentally facepalm.

Danse sort of waves his hand in the air, jokingly saying, "Oh, I know the answer!"

"Shh!" Beth hushes him. "Let them guess," she laughs.

"Um…" Kate puts her hand up to her chin, going through the full motion of thinking this out. "Could it possibly be the other man in the room? Besides the one who was flapping his arm a second ago?" She chuckles.

Beth nods. "Turning twenty-four."

"Wow," Kate chuckles again. "You're getting old, Robert."

"Am not," I mumble, burying my face in Vitya's hair in order to hide the small blush forming due to their talk of me.

"Well, maybe you guys can stay long enough so we can celebrate with you? You know I'd love that."

Beth nods at Kate. "We did make the long trip here—might as well stay for a while." Both Danse and I nod at her, showing we're fine with this. "And I'm pretty sure the boys won't mind with how they're carrying on." We all turn our attention to the ruckus coming from upstairs. I hear how they're playing a game—Hunt the Mutant. _I used to play that when I was a kid back in Lamplight. Hm. Lamplight…_

"Hey, babe?" Beth looks at me curiously. "Would you want to see where I grew up?"

"You mean Little Lamplight?"

I nod. "I'm sure it's all different now, but I know you're curious about it," I tell her. "And, to be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing it again myself. It's been a long time."

Kate asks, "You said you left when you were fifteen?"

"Yeah, that's when Lucy and I left. She was only fourteen. Still amazes me that she went with me, considering she had almost two years left down there."

"So, I'm in the dark," Danse says suddenly. I look over to see his thick brows knitted together. "What's a 'Lamplight?' What are we talking about?"

I laugh, forgetting he's the only one here who's clueless about the town. After explaining the basics of the underground community to him—with the help of Kate, for the most part—he says, "So, it's like a city for kids." He chuckles and says under his breath, "Kid City…"

"That's pretty much what it is," I laugh. "You nailed it."

"How come I never heard of it? I grew up here. Or… at least I think I did…" He sighs. "Guess that's why I've never heard of it."

Beth reaches over and puts her hand on his knee in understanding. Butch, having noticed a few exchanges like this over the past few hours we've been here, says, "You three are pretty close, aren't you?"

"We're all we have," I answer. "We all live on the same island, and we don't leave very often now that we have the kids. We're family—so, we have to be close." Butch nods, grasping what I'm getting at.

More time goes by with the five of us talking—and nobody's noticed how late it's gotten. So, rather suddenly, it's time for bed.

Kate stands and starts to move around the living room, looking for something. "I think there's enough room in Ellis's bed for Duncan and Shaun to sleep with him. We have the couch—and I assume Danse will be talking that." She opens a cabinet and makes a noise of approval as she takes out several blankets. She tosses Danse one, and practically throws the rest at me. I hardly have enough time to shield Victoria from the fluffy impact, mainly in fear of waking her. Kate just laughs at my angry expression. "I suppose you two can have our bed. Butch and I can make a pallet out of these blankets. That's okay, right?" she asks him.

He simply replies, "Of course."

"Absolutely not," Beth refutes. "No, no—we can't kick you guys out of your bed. There's more than enough blankets here for us to be comfortable. You guys just go ahead and sleep upstairs."

"We appreciate the offer, though," I tell them, to which Beth nods. "But there is enough here for us. This will be just fine."

"Are you sure?" Kate asks, seeming worried about it.

"Kate." I look her square in the eye. "We'll be fine."

The set in her mouth tells me she's not happy about it, but she nods, tells us goodnight, and goes up the stairs. A moment later, Beth tells me that she'll go tuck the boys into bed—or rather let them know that it's time _for_ bed. Danse helps me spread out the blankets on top of each other on the floor, since I'm still juggling Vitya in my arms, trying not to wake her. But she does anyway, and doesn't look too happy about it.

Danse starts laughing quietly at her tired, angry face. "She looks like she could kill right about now," he jokes.

"Not for another few years, she's not," I tease back. "So, she wishes."

Beth comes back down and lays on the pallet, reaching up for me to hand Vitya to her. But once I start to lower her down to her mother, she starts making a fuss, and grips that much tighter to my shirt. Beth chuckles. "Well, I guess I see who her snuggle buddy is tonight. As usual."

I somehow _miraculously_ make it down onto the pallet myself without dropping or even scaring Victoria from the odd angles I put myself into. Once I'm down—and laying on my back—Vitya spreads herself out on her stomach right on top of my chest, making herself at home. Not a minute later, she's sound asleep. I grin down at her, placing my arm behind my head to keep it held up.

"Here," Danse says, tossing Beth and I a couple small pillows off the couch. With thanks, I place it in its respective place. I lay here, thinking about today's events, and dreading whatever Kate has cooking up in her brain for my birthday "celebration," as she called it.

* * *

The big birthday bash wasn't as bad as I was anticipating. Kate got the help of Beth in making a cake, and all we did was eat it and talk as we sat around the DeLoria family's living room. That is, until Kate decided to bring out the box.

"Open it," she demands.

"No," I tell her. "You're not supposed to have gotten me anything. We talked about this, Kate. If anything, get something for Duncan," I say quietly, in hopes of him missing it.

"I already did." Kate beams as she winks at me. "You just didn't see me give it to him. Anyway, stop stalling! Less talking, more opening." She gets a sort of twinkle in her eye, scaring me about what she could have possibly bought. I know she's the type of person that won't stop pestering you until she gets her way, so I open the damn box.

I take out the item inside. "A flip lighter?"

"A gold plated one," Kate says, about bouncing off her seat in excitement. "Duncan had mentioned before about how you smoke sometimes. I don't know how many lighters you have—or if any are gold plated—but I thought it was a nice gesture anyway."

"It really is," I tell her. "But…" I put the lighter back in the box. "I've been trying to kick my smoking habit. You know all those warnings on the back of the packs and cartons? About how they could be dangerous to the smoker and those around them?"

"Oh, you don't believe those warnings, do you?" Kate asks. "Butch has smoked for years. Like, his whole life—almost as soon as he could breathe as a baby, he had a smoke hanging from his lips." She laughs. "Nothing's wrong with him." He quietly agrees.

"Well, the health people back before the War couldn't make up their mind. One day, it's fine—the next, it'll kill you. I just don't want to take the chance anymore. I don't want to hurt my kids, and I want to be around to raise them. So, I've been trying to be good." I chuckle, "There's one department in my life where I'm trying to behave."

"Got that right," Beth agrees. She jams her thumb at me. "This guy—can you believe him?" Vitya latches onto Beth's thumb from her lap, suddenly interested in it. We all laugh at her abrupt fixation.

"Well," Kate starts, "if you're trying to give it up, then that's on you. It's hard to do, so more power to you if you can. Butch tried for about a week." She chuckles. "That didn't go so well."

Butch speaks up, having been quiet for a while. _He usually is quiet—lets Kate do the talking._ "Sure you don't want to put that lighter to use at least once? I could use a smoke right about now, and it'd be cool if you joined me."

I think about it for a minute. Sighing, "Okay, I'll use it once. Wait." I pat my pocket where I used to keep a pack of cigarettes. "I left my pack at home since I've been trying to quit."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I have plenty." He gets a pack of the wrapped tobacco off a shelf and holds it out to Danse. "Want one with us?"

Danse stands and grabs one from him. "Sure, why not."

The three of us leave the house to have a smoke outside.

* * *

Beth POV

"Well, now with the men gone, us women can talk." Kate chuckles.

Shaun makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Ugh. Can we go play outside or something? Ellis, Duncan, and I _aren't_ women."

"Obviously," I tell him. "Sure, you can go outside. Go check out Megaton. But _do not_ smoke with them. You hear me, Shaun? Duncan?" They nod. "Okay. Have fun." The three of them leave the house whooping and hollering, already rambunctious as only boys can be in an open space.

"Are you hungry?" Kate asks me.

"A little," I admit.

"We have plenty here, if you like any of the stuff we have. Or we could go get some food down at the Noodle Stand, if you want."

"You know, some noodles don't sound too bad right now." I stand from my seat and head toward the door, before being stopped my her.

"Would you mind if I held Victoria again? It's been a while since Ellis was that small—I kinda miss it," she smiles.

"Sure." I give over my daughter to her. Victoria just looks up at her, studying her face like she had when she first held her. "I'm surprised she isn't freaking out," I tell Kate. "She hasn't met too many strangers, so for her to be this calm…"

"Well, you and Robert said so yourselves: she's a good baby."

As we head out the door, we see Robert, Danse, and Butch sitting on some chairs not too far from the door—about twelve or so feet away. Robert looks up at me curiously. "We're going to go get something to eat. Be back later." He nods and continues to say something to Danse.

Once Kate, Tori, and myself are at a table inside the Noodle Stand, our orders are taken, and eventually delivered. I take one bite of my noodles and laugh. "What's funny?" Kate asks.

"Robert told me about your guys' argument last time I was here. He said the noodles in Diamond City are better."

"And?" She adjusts Victoria on her knee as she stabs her Mirelurk cake with a fork.

"Takahashi's noodles _are_ better. Just sayin'."

"Nuh-uh," she disagrees. "Jenny's are better."

"Annnd here we go with the noodle argument, two point oh," I chuckle. "Agree to disagree?" She nods, grinning.

After a minute, she asks, "So, have you and Robert talked about when you'll take off to Little Lamplight?"

"Not really," I say. "Maybe later, maybe tomorrow?" I shrug and take Tori from her, as she had started reaching for me. I cut some of the noodles into small pieces and give her a spoonful of them. She eats it happily. "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking about asking if I could go with you guys. But… I changed my mind."

"You know you can if you want." I spoon Victoria another bite into her gaping, waiting mouth—reminding me more of a baby bird than a human child.

"Yeah, I know. I haven't been there since before Robert left, so I thought I'd like to see the differences—who's the occupants, so to say. But, I mulled it over, and decided he'd probably want to go with just you guys. I know I tend to be a little overbearing at times."

"Nonsense. Robert loves you."

"I know, I know." She takes a bite of her cake. "But," she says around it before swallowing. "I've already thought it through, and in case you didn't know, there's no changing my mind."

I chuckle. "I know how it goes. I'm the same way."

"Sounds like we have a lot more in common than just being vault dwellers," she grins.

* * *

Once we make it back to the house, the men are inside, chatting up a storm still. The boys are nowhere in sight, so they must still be out and about.

When Tori sees her dad, she immediately starts reaching for him. I hand her to him as he starts to say, "I was talking with Danse earlier. Do you think we can head out in the morning? Lamplight isn't exactly close."

"Yeah. Sounds fine to me." I look to Kate. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Sure about what?" Robert asks.

I grin, pat Kate's shoulder, and sit down next to him. "Nothing. Just something we were talking about a while ago."

"Oh, okay." He completely drops the matter and turns his attention to Victoria, playing with her hands as she stares up at him in adoration.

* * *

Morning comes quicker than it seems to back home. We gather up our two boys, what possessions we brought with us, say goodbye to the DeLorias, and the six of us head out into the wasteland. And as Robert had said last night: Lamplight isn't exactly close. We make the trek in a shorter time than expected, but it still takes all day to get there. It's dark by the time he says we're nearing it.

But finally—finally—we make it to the caverns.


	45. 44 Welcome Back

_A/N: Excuse the odd spelling, but it makes sense a bit later on if you'd played FO3. If not, it's not too hard to catch on. Just read it how it's written, and you'll be set._

* * *

44\. Welcome Back

MacCready POV

 _Welcome Back_ by John Sebastian

"Watch your step," I tell my troupe as I open the door leading down into Little Lamplight. "I learned that the hard way once. Surprised it didn't leave a scar," I chuckle. Beth looks up from the ground to my face, as if in search of the scar in question. "You can't tell it now. Watch out!" I grip her arm as she begins to take a tumble—her own grip on Vitya tightening. "Need to keep your eyes peeled—especially in the entrance. Ground's pretty rough through here." I look to Duncan, Shaun, and Danse behind me. _At least they seem to be doing okay…_ "There's going to be a gate up here," I continue. "Maybe I should do the talking. These kids don't easily trust 'mungos.'"

A few moments later, and I'm faced with the very gate I swore I'd never see again. The painted words are still there, warning all adults to stay out. I can't help a grin.

"Hey! Who awe you?" I notice a young man standing just on the other side of the gate—where the security's platform is. He speaks with a slight impediment. _Why does his voice sound familiar?_

"No reason to freak out," I tell him. I look at his face more and see he's around twenty years old, and he even looks familiar. "I'm just wanting to look around—show my family where I grew up."

"You gwew up hewe?" he asks, his speech impediment a little more pronounced.

"Yeah. Left when I was fifteen. Me and a girl. Went to Big Town for a while, but ended up moving around for a bit." I see he's looking at me harder, as if he'd trying to decipher if I'm trust worthy. Or perhaps he sort of recognizes me, too?

"And this is your famiwy?" I nod. He looks them over, and then it hits me.

"Biwwy?"

He looks at me with a slightly confused face—eyes squinted to see my better—before they open wide. "MacCweady?"

"Yeah," I laugh. "It's me."

"Oh, wow!" He looks to where the gate opener lever thing is, and says, "Open the gate!" He makes his way down the steps and, once the gate is raised, he comes out to greet me. He gives me a quick hug and steps back, looking at me. "Look at you! Aww grown up. Look, Sue!"

I see a young woman, somewhere in her mid-twenties, approaching us. "Wow. Mayor MacCready. Didn't think I'd ever see you back here."

If she wasn't wearing the hat she used to when we were kids, I wouldn't have recognized her. "Knock Knock?" She grins and waves at me as affirmation. "Wait. We're mungos now. Why are you guys still here?"

"Big Town got boring," Knock Knock—or as Biwwy called her by her real name, Sue—says. "The rules changed. We know now that mungos aren't so bad." She chuckles. "So, we moved back in. Well… us older ones, anyway. Biwwy got to stay, cause he wasn't sixteen yet."

"Stiww mayow," he proudly professes.

"Good for you," I pat him on the shoulder. In a change of topic, I gesture to the folks behind me. "I want to introduce you guys to my family." I notice both of the Lamplighters' faces seeming surprised at the word _family,_ considering we were all orphans growing up.

I point to Danse, who always seems to be standing in the back. "This is a friend of ours. He may be brawny, but he's harmless."

"When I must be," he adds in, grinning sardonically.

"True," I chuckle. "These are my beautiful children," I indicate Vitya in Beth's arms, and wrap my own arms around the boys.

"Weird that he's blond," Sue notes, looking at Shaun's hair.

"There's a reason for that," I say. Moving on, I hug up the woman next to me. "This is my wife, Beth."

"Wife?" Biwwy asks—and I can see from the look on his face, he's thinking, _That's not Lucy_. He continues, "I mean, it's nice to meet you, ma'am. But… what happened to Wucy, RJ?"

"She died about five years ago," I tell him. "But not before we had a son." I move said son to be front and foremost. "This is Duncan."

"You look so much like your mom," Sue says, bending over to see his face better.

"I get that a lot," he says, leaning into me, nervous from the proximity of a stranger.

"You've gotten it twice, buddy," I laugh as he shrugs. I put my hand on Shaun's shoulder. "As for Shaun being blond, it's because he's Beth's from her previous marriage. That's why their hair colour is so similar." Both Biwwy and Sue nod, seeing where I'm coming from. "And this little thing…" I hold out my hands toward Beth, wanting Vitya. As soon as she sees me reaching for her, she's twisting herself into knots trying to get into my arms. "This is Victoria." She happily settles into my chest. "She's mine and Beth's. Total daddy's girl, if you couldn't tell already."

Biwwy laughs. "Pwetty sure I could."

Sue comes up closer, looking Victoria in the face—and she looks back just as calmly and evenly. _She's never scared of strangers,_ I think with gratitude. "She's beautiful," she tells us. "Has your eyes." She notices Beth's blue irises and adds, "Well, maybe both of your guy's eyes. Where'd the red part of her hair come from, though?"

"Don't know," I admit. "Maybe a mixture of our hair shades?" Sue shrugs.

"How about you guys come in," Biwwy suggests. "Things haven't changed aww that much since you weft." As the six of us walk under the gate—Beth, Danse, and the boys glancing around at their new surroundings—Biwwy continues, "We have a few mowe kids now. But mainwy, it's just us. Angewa weft a few yeaws after you did, and Sammy not too wong after her. I think that's aww. Would you say, Sue?"

"Yeah. Pretty much everybody is still here. As I said before, the rules changed. We still welcome kids who want to live here, but there's not too many coming through anymore."

"How do you have room now? The Great Chamber was pretty cramped—even back when I was still here."

"We actuawwy cweared out Vault 87. So, we have some bunks in thewe. The Gweat Chambew is used mainwy for the smaww ones now." He chuckles. "They heawd stowies about the 'bad vault,' and twy not to step foot in thewe. Too scawy for them."

"You cleared it out?" I shake my head. "That's great. Is that the reason why the Brotherhood is having an easier time wiping them out on the surface?"

"Probably," Sue nods. "It's not too hard to kill what can't be replenished, you know."

We've stopped not too far from the office building near the door for some reason. Looking at just the outside makes memories of years past run through my head—and a curiosity. "Who's the doctor now?"

Biwwy laughs. "Well… you know how Bumble was awways with Wucy, twying to wearn medicine and whatnot?" I nod. "Can you guess who the doctow is, then?"

"Bumble," I grin. "She still a klutz?"

"Not so much," Sue replies. "She's got a steady hand, and knows her way around most of what we have problems with down here—rads, scrapes and the like. She'd make Lucy proud…"

"Well, she was like her little sister, so Lucy'd be proud anyway." I clear my throat. "She still go by Bumble, or…?"

"No. She goes by Betty. Most of us go by ouw weal names now. We outgwew ouw nicknames, I guess."

"It happens," I respond. "I just go by Robert now. Unless it's business—then I keep the MacCready thing," I chuckle. Wrapping my free arm around Beth, I continue, "My own wife didn't even know my name until we'd known each other for a couple weeks."

"I'm assuming you weren't married, though," Sue says, sarcasm clear on her face.

"Nah. Just a merc-boss relationship. Had a contract and everything."

"And that went out the window a few weeks in," Beth jokes, finally feeling comfortable enough to talk. Sue and Biwwy laugh.

"Eclair still here?" I ask.

"He _had_ gone to Big Town," Sue tells me. "But, he got bored with their kitchen options and came back. Only took him a week to change his mind," she laughs.

"Well, we haven't eaten all day. I sure could use some food. How about you guys?" I turn to my boys, who nod furiously, cracking Sue up. "Let's go get some grub, then." I put my hands on their backs and lead them in the right direction—Beth and Danse behind me.

"Sure," Sue continues. "I'll go let Betty know you're here, grab Nick, and we'll meet you at Spelunkers."

* * *

"Man, oh, man!" Eclair comes out from behind the counter. "If it isn't our old mayor, coming to visit his old stomping ground." He strolls up to me and gives me a half handshake, half hug.

"How'd you recognize me?" I ask him. "I've been gone for almost a whole decade."

"I know, brother. But how can I forget your dreadful mug, eh? Turning into a mungo doesn't get rid of ugly, you know." He laughs, more carefree than I remember him being. I just give him a face, knowing he's not serious.

Suddenly, I hear a young woman from behind me call out, "RJ!"

I do a one eighty and see who I assume is Bumble—or rather, Betty—running up to me. Sue and her twin brother, Nick, aren't too far behind her. "I hear you're going by Betty these days, Bumble."

She gives me a big hug. "Not too clumsy anymore, see. Also, I figured I might as well go with my real name, since everyone else was." She looks around me, giving Beth a long look before asking, "Where's Lucy? She didn't come with you?"

I know how close Betty was with Lucy, so I'm not sure how to say it. I look to Beth who grins encouragingly. Finally, I tell her, "She didn't make it, Betty. She died a while back. I'm sorry." I can see she's clearly troubled by the news.

She's silent for a bit before she says, "At least we have memories. And I have most of my medical knowledge from her, so that's cool." She smiles weakly.

"Yeah. You know she loved you like a sister." She nods. "So," I change the subject, "how old is the resident doctor now anyway?"

"Seventeen," she says, blushing slightly at my mention of her title, or maybe her age—I'm not sure which one. "I'm glad I don't have to leave Lamplight. As I was getting closer to sixteen, I was becoming really scared of having to go up to the surface. Now I don't, and it's awesome."

"It is," I agree with a grin. "Sometimes, I really miss the comfort of a rocky ceiling above my head. But, I'm used to the sky now, so it's not so bad." I laugh.

Suddenly, Betty notices Duncan. "Oh, wow." She kneels down next to him. "How old are you?"

"I'll be seven in August," Duncan responds, leaning into Beth this time due to yet another stranger talking to him.

"You look _so_ much like your mom." She seems amazed.

I ask her, "How do you know he's not mine and Beth's?"

"Like I said, he looks like his mom. I spent how many years in the clinic with her, RJ?" She again turns her attention to Duncan. "Your mom taught me a _lot_ about how to become a doctor. She was really cool."

He looks down. "I don't really remember her anymore."

"He was not even two when she died," I tell her, to which she nods.

"But," Duncan says, "Beth is my mom now. And I love her a lot." He gives her a squeeze of a hug.

"Well, I'm glad you have her, then." Betty smiles at Beth. One thing leads to another, and unexpectedly, _everybody_ is talking as if it's not sometime around 1:00 a.m.

 _Welcome back,_ I think to myself, happy to be here.

* * *

What seems like hours pass by with ease. I reintroduce the company with me as more "kids" I know walk into Spelunkers. Zip, who turns out to have been named Ricky all along—and who I swear was just about the most annoying child back before I left—comes in, and I'm surprised to see that's he's actually mellowed out a _lot_. Still addicted to Nuka-Cola, but what can a guy do? Then I'm quite shocked to see Penny come in—she's always been one to be asleep this time.

"RJ?"

"Hey, Penny. What've you been up to?"

She doesn't seem as startled or happy to see me as the rest of them were. "Not a whole lot. I'm not on the scav team anymore—I took over teaching since Joseph—" She stops short.

"…Since Joseph what?" I look to Eclair, Biwwy.

Nick speaks up. "Joseph died a few months ago."

"What?" I look around to all my old friends' faces—they look down or away in lamenting. "How?"

When no one answers, Nick tells me. "He went out to look for some more books or holotapes—you know he was always wanting more learning material. Anyway… he went a little too close to the surface entrance of the vault—got a really bad case of rad poisoning. By the time he got back, there was nothing Betty could do. The cave fungus that heals rads wasn't enough. Not even Rad-Away could have done it fast enough…" He takes off the hat that matches his sister's. "I'm sorry, RJ. I know you two were pretty close."

"Yeah…" I don't know what else to say besides, "I'm sorry, Penny—everyone. He was a good kid, and I bet an even better man. …Where is he?"

Sue says, "We buried him not too far from the vault door down here. Figured he could rest there."

"I bet he can," I agree.

After a minute, everybody looking dog-dead tired, Biwwy suggests that we all go to bed. "We can aww tawk in the mowning. RJ, how about we settwe you and youw famiwy in the new bunks? Thewe's pwenty of woom for aww of you."

"Sounds nice." I move Vitya from one arm to the other, trying not to jostle her so much as to wake her.

As we follow Biwwy toward the Great Chamber—Beth behind me—she quietly asks, "We don't have to go through Murder Pass, right?" As I chuckle—shaking my head and looking back at her—I see Danse seeming confused.

"Used to be infested with super mutants," I tell him, easing his puzzlement. "But, no," I answer Beth. "We don't have to go through Murder Pass." I chuckle. "The door down here has been unlocked for a good while now." I think of why and instantly become solemn. "Joseph unlocked it before I even left…" She notices my mood change and puts her hand on my shoulder in understanding.

Biwwy shows us where we'll be staying, and we all get settled into our bunks, as he had called them. As we get ready to turn in, I tell Beth I want to go see my friend's grave—that I felt bad just walking by it without acknowledging him.

"That'd be good. Do you want me to go with you?" she asks, picking Victoria right back up from the bed.

"I don't think it'll hurt," I tell her.

As we're up and about to leave, I hear Danse say, "Here." I look over to him across the way—not too far from the boys' bunks. "I can take her from you—give you free arms," he says, indicating Vitya.

"I don't want to take the chance of waking her when we come back and get her," Beth says.

"You don't have to. I think she likes me enough by now that she can sleep with me—if you're okay with it."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "You're not used to having a baby in the bed with you."

"I don't move much, if that's what you're getting at." He gives me a crooked grin.

After a moment, Beth says, "Sure," and hands her to him. He sits up in the bed and takes her gingerly, careful not to make her rise from her slumber with a vengeance as she does on the occasion. As we're about to walk out, I see him place her—still careful—against his chest, and slowly lays back onto the cot. _I guess he saw her sleeping like that on me back at Kate's house._ Once he's settled, and I'm both shocked and happy to see Vitya still sleeping away, I leave the room with Beth, ready to see my friend again.

* * *

"Hey. Been a while, huh?"

I stand over my deceased friend's burial place, not sure what to say. Beth stands to the side of me, rubbing small, understanding circles on my lower back. "Just talk to him," she advises me.

I clear my throat and start over. "I'm sorry, Joseph. If I were here—instead of in Boston—I may could have helped you. Like back when we tried to get into 87. You let me help you get books and holotapes back then. Maybe you would have let me this time, too."

I feel the back of my eyeballs start to swell, preparing for tears. I just hold it back—man up. When the feeling is all but gone, I resume.

"You were a good person. Too good of a person to die from something as bad as radiation poisoning. Like Lucy with the ghouls… I guess you two are somewhere reminiscing, huh?" I take a steadying breath. "I should have been there to save your life—like you saved me from that super mutant. I'm sorry I wasn't able to."

Beth wraps her arm around my side. "It's not your fault, Robert. You didn't even know. And we were still in the Commonwealth." She gives me a small hug and repeats, "It's not your fault," in a quiet voice.

"I know… I just wish I could have done _something_." I know she knows the feeling—but instead of being hundreds of miles away and being completely unaware of the situation, she was trapped behind glass, not ten feet from her own dilemma, watching it as it played out right in front of her. Talking to the mound of dirt again, I say, "Well, Joseph. I'm beat. Think I'll go get some sleep now. Rest easy, friend." I turn from him and walk back to the bunks with Beth next to me.

* * *

I wake up to my daughter's tiny hands trying to pry my mouth open, and my wife doing nothing but laughing about it. "Morning," she says once my eyes are open, letting Vitya scooch her way toward me on the bed. When she's close enough, she clings to my neck like there's no tomorrow. "Danse said she did good last night. She didn't freak when she saw him instead of us or anything."

"Didn't think she would, honestly." I sit up carefully, loosening Victoria's grip on me. I can hear Duncan laughing as Shaun reads something to him. From the sounds of the jokes I've heard since I was their age, they somehow got a hold of Sue's joke book she took from the vault years ago. "You guys eat anything yet?"

"Nah. We were waiting for you to wake up. But Tori here couldn't wait any longer, so she decided to stick her hand in your mouth," she grins.

"And who allowed that?" I ask as she chuckles. I rub the sleep out of my eyes—or rather _try_ to rub the sleep out of my eyes. "Man, I could _not_ sleep last night." I stand and put my duster over the jeans and shirt I've been wearing since leaving Kate's, and ended up sleeping in.

"I could tell," she replies. "You were all over the place trying to get comfortable. I think it was a good thing Vitya slept with Danse. He's somewhere around here, by the way." She looks toward the door leading to the Great Chamber.

I blink and open my eyes wide, immediately awake. "What did you just say?"

"About you not being comfortable?"

"No."

"About… her sleeping with Danse?" She looks at me confusedly.

"No. You just called her 'Vitya.'"

She nearly looks horrified. Her eyes are round as rocks when she says, "I'm pretty sure I didn't."

"Wanna bet?" I ask, not able to hold in my laughter. "You just did. I heard you!"

"Nah," she rebuts. "I didn't." She acts like she knows she did, but won't admit it.

"Duncan? Did you just hear Mom call Victoria 'Vitya?'" He looks at me suddenly.

"Sorry. I was listening to Shaun's joke. It's about a guy named Noah, and it's good!" He turns his attention back to Shaun, seeming to not even care about what I'm talking about.

"You did, too." I take Victoria from her, still laughing. "But you're not going to admit to it, are you?"

"No," she says. "Cause there's nothing to admit. I didn't call her 'Vitya!'"

"Uh-huh," I say sarcastically, starting to walk toward Spelunkers, the boys right behind me. I notice she's not following. "We're gonna go get some breakfast. Aren't you coming?"

"Only if you stop talking about the whole 'Vitya' thing." She looks at me with a sort of pouting face. _Oh, yeah,_ I think. _She definitely called her Vitya just now._

"Fine. I won't bring it up." I grin at her, already finding it hard to keep my word.

* * *

I could have sworn that only two days had passed when we left Little Lamplight for DC—but in fact, nearly a whole week had gone by—and it just seemed a lot shorter due to us having a good time.

I got to see—and introduce my family to—the remaining Lamplighters I knew from my childhood. It was great to see all of them again. We even got to meet some of the new kids—and I assured them they were in good hands with the "mungos" in charge. I also got to show my party around, as Eclair had called it, my old stomping ground. I showed Shaun and Duncan where I'd play before I became mayor, Danse where the armoury was, and Beth where Lucy and I used to run off to when we had the chance. They all seemed to enjoy themselves immensely. But it unfortunately came to an end far too soon, and we were headed back toward the city again.

I'd told Kate I wasn't sure if we were going to be stopping by again—and I'm glad I did. Because not only Danse, but the boys _and_ Beth wanted to see the monuments up close. I couldn't say no. So, of course, we're on our way to the middle of the "DC Hellhole" as Three Dog—the radio DJ—calls it. And he's not exactly wrong.

* * *

It takes a couple days, but we finally make it to the river in one piece. We travel along it southward until we reach a good spot to cross and, a couple hours later, we're at the Lincoln Memorial. There are a handful of escaped and freed slaves residing here, but they allow us to look around, calling us "tourists." Beth just laughs at this name and continues to walk around.

"Never been to this memorial before," she says idly. "I've been to the Washington, the Jefferson Memorials—but not the Lincoln. This is cool." She stands in front of the giant stone statue of who I assume is President Lincoln. I don't know what he looks like, so all I can do is assume it's him.

"Been to the Capital Building?" I ask as I walk up behind her.

"Yeah. Obviously, it was a long time ago." She chuckles. "I'm so sure it's different now. Everything is."

"Well, unless it had a gaping hole in the dome part, I'd say it _is_ different."

She sighs, "Yeah." She looks over to Shaun and Duncan who are trying their best to read the engravings on the wall of the big building, then over to Danse—who has apparently seen this memorial before—as he plays with Vitya in his arms.

"Well, it's not like I haven't seen this place before," I tell her. "So, whenever you and the boys are ready, we can go to the Washington one." She nods before walking over to the wall with the inscriptions.

When we leave, and are moving closer to the Washington Memorial, Danse suddenly hands Vitya to Beth and swears under his breath. "What's wrong?" she asks.

"I forgot the Brotherhood kept this memorial under surveillance. There could be soldiers up ahead." As we keep walking, we're dismayed to find he's right.

"Here. Wear this." I throw my hat at him and he places it on his head with no questions or comments. "Still want to stop here?" I ask.

"You guys can go up if you want," Danse tells us. "I'll stay down here. Might be a good idea if I keep my distance, actually."

"They'll probably notice," Beth adds in. "I mean, you're traveling with us, then suddenly go your own way? You know the Brotherhood trains to notice every detail." He nods gravely. "I guess just stay with us, but try not to draw too much attention." He nods again, already trying not to speak in case someone hears him.

When we get to the front of the obelisk, there's only one soldier in power armour present. "What's your business here?" she asks. I swear I recognize her voice, but who's to say, since she's wearing a helmet, and therefore sounds different than normal.

"My family and I are sightseeing," I tell her, Beth sandwiching the boys between her and myself—Danse _way_ in the back, keeping his head down.

"Who sightsees anymore? Kind of a thing of the past, wouldn't you say?" She looks from my face—altogether skipping Beth's—and looks directly at Danse. _Crap. This is what Beth was worrying about._

"You know what?" I say abruptly, again gaining the Brotherhood soldier's attention at once. "I think we'll skip this monument. We've all seen it up close, so we can go now. No need to go to the top anyway, right?"

I know the boys are disappointed, but I also know they at least somewhat understand Danse's safety is in danger. So, we all turn to leave, Danse bringing in the rear, as usual. Until the soldier says something.

"Danse?"

We all stop dead in our tracks, not sure what to do. _We could kill her,_ I think. _She's the only one here. Nobody has to know. It could have just been a wandering Raider, or a stray super mutant who killed her._ I place my hand on the emergency pistol I keep in the waist of my pants, just in case I must go through with it.

Although Beth and the boys stay turned facing the other direction, Danse and I turn to look at the woman. "What?" Danse replies, dejection in his voice.

"I knew it was you!" she says. Instead of raising her rifle higher—or taking any sort of defensive stance—she ejects out of her power armour. And now I see why I recognized her voice.

"Haylen?" Danse utters, flabbergasted.

She runs up to him and gives him a big hug. He doesn't reciprocate for a moment, still dazed about what just happened. But then he slowly bends down to her level and hugs her back, happy to see her. "What are you doing here?" she asks him.

"We're on 'vacation,'" he tells her. He points to Beth and I. "They asked if I wanted to come, and I had nothing else to do, so here I am."

Haylen finally looks at Beth. "Oh, hey! I didn't even see you. Too busy trying to identify this guy." She slaps Danse in the arm. "Oh! You had a baby?" she asks, walking over to where Beth still stands, shocked it all turned out okay.

"Oh, um, yeah. Victoria," Beth manages to get out.

"She's gorgeous." Haylen turns to me. "Sorry I didn't realize who you were. You look different without your hat." She moves to Danse and snatches it off his head, bringing it to me, and placing it upon my own head. "There. Now I know you," she chuckles. Looking back to Danse, "So, how's life? It's been a minute."

"It has," he says. "Life's alright. I have two nephews and a niece now, so to say. Well, she's actually my goddaughter."

Haylen smiles. "That's great. I'm happy for you."

"Why are you here in DC? What happened to being in the Commonwealth?" he asks her.

"Maxson moved a bunch of us back here to the Capital Wasteland. Said he didn't need so many troops now, what with the Institute being gone." She sighs. "I don't even know how I ended up on monument duty. Who thought it was a good idea to put a scribe in power armour and let her guard a giant, molded rock? This was not in my job description," she laughs.

"Yeah, I was kinda wondering the same thing," Danse chuckles.

After Danse and Haylen stood there talking for a little while, he suddenly looked to us and suggested we continue our tour of the DC Strip. _Go check out Underworld,_ he had told us. _I'll be here when you get back._ So, off we went—both Beth and I thought we'd give him and Haylen their space, time to talk and catch up.

The boys really enjoyed Underworld for some reason. Maybe because it was in an old museum, or maybe because they've never seen so many non-feral ghouls in one place. Either way, we decided to grab some food at the Ninth Circle—and was surprised when we saw a "smoothskin" named Sydney in there.

As the sun went down, and the moon started to rise from behind the Capital Building, I was glad for the absence of super mutants in the area. Last time I'd been through here, they were so thick and swarming that it was hard to move from point A to point B without getting shot at by a hulking green monstrosity. Now? Not one in sight. And I find myself grateful to both the Brotherhood—and now that I know they'd helped—the Lamplighters' contributions to the absence of super mutants in DC.

When we got back to Danse, we found him and Haylen sitting down, leaning against the gate just chatting away. It was discussed that he'd meet us in a couple days in Rivet City's marketplace. Beth was nervous about leaving him to make the trip by himself, of course—but every single one of us told her it'd all work out. _He's a grown man,_ I'd said. _And with combat training. Stop worrying so much. You're going to get an ulcer one of these days._

We continued through the Strip, exploring old museums, reading through historical plaques, and wondering around destroyed displays. Beth told me she'd be surprised to make it through the tour without tearing up a little—but she made me proud by being the strong woman I know she is.

We decided it'd be best to stay in one of the museums for the night. But we were back at it in the morning. Once we reached the Capital Building, and spent at least an hour in there, we started toward Rivet City. It was already late again, and all five of us were exhausted and ready to flop down onto the nearest surface for a nap. But we persevered and made it to the old aircraft carrier before the hour became _too_ late.

We rent out the same room we'd stayed in on our first night in DC. Beth lays Vitya down onto our bed and the boys crash in the other one. "Did Danse say a time to be expecting him?" she asks me. "I'm too tired to remember if he did or not."

"I don't think so," I respond. "He just said he'd be here tomorrow."

Making sure the boys are settled down, Beth and I lay down ourselves, ready to recharge from a long couple days.

"I had fun today and yesterday," she tells me, too tired to even keep her eyes open. "Thanks for a great trip." She feels around until she finds my hand and grips onto it.

"Thanks for bringing it up," I counter. "Wouldn't be here if you hadn't of said anything." I squeeze her hand. "So, thank you."

"Mm." I grin. _She probably didn't even hear what I said, she's so pooped._

Shortly after she falls asleep, I pass out. And I'm out _all_ night. When morning comes, I wake easily—feeling refreshed and ready to head home. Once Shaun, Duncan, and Beth are awake, we all head down to the marketplace—where Danse said he'd meet us today.

Picking out a table at Gary's Galley—the settlement's restaurant—we all place our orders and talk as we wait for them to come out.

"What part did you boys like best about the Strip?" I ask them.

Shaun speaks up first. "I really liked Underworld. I've never seen so many ghouls that weren't feral in one place. It was cool. What about you, Duncan?" he asks, turning to his brother.

"I don't know," he responds, taking a drink of his water. "Even though we used to live here, I don't remember seeing any of those places."

I tell him, "That's because when your mom and I went there, you were just a baby."

"Oh. That's probably why, then." He thinks for a moment before answering, "I liked the museum."

"We went to a few," Shaun points out. "Which one?"

"All of them, I guess." Duncan grins. "I like seeing old stuff—like from before the War. It's real neat."

"Couldn't agree with you more, kiddo," I hear from behind me. Turning around, I see Danse standing there.

"Hey! When'd you get here?" Beth asks, standing to give the man a hug—glad to see he's okay.

"Little bit ago," he replies. "I only heard Duncan say that last part, so…" He grabs a chair, pivoting it so as to sit on it backwards, and sits next to me on the end. He places his own order and complains, "Longest walk ever."

"I'm so sure you've taken longer treks," I tease him. "We just did a couple days ago."

"True. But it seemed extra long last night."

"Last night? Didn't you sleep?" Beth asks.

"Nope. I made the trip after the sun had set—didn't have time to sleep. But it was long cause I was alone," he razzes her.

Beth smacks my arm. "Told you he shouldn't have made the trip by himself."

"Not my fault!" I tell her, giving her a weird look for having smacked me.

"It's not, Beth," Danse backs me up. "I wanted to stay and visit with a colleague, and you guys had places to go. It made sense."

After Beth takes a deep breath—trying to let it go—she asks, "So, how is Haylen anyway? You find out why she was stuck there instead of the Citadel?"

"No," he tells us. "She's not even sure herself. But she's doing good. Said she gets bored a lot, so seeing us was a nice change."

"You mean seeing _you_ , not us," Beth corrects him. I look over to him and see his cheeks a bit pink. I chuckle.

"Sounds like you had a nice time," I say.

"We did," he agrees, smiling at the memory of it. I know that look.

"You shagged the old woman, didn't you?" I grin at him as he raises his head to look at me, eyes wide.

"Robert!" Beth scolds.

"What?" I laugh. "A man can't ask another man a question?"

"Yeah, but not that one!" She looks to Danse, who looks mortified—making me think I'm right about it even more. "I apologize for his rudeness."

"It's okay," he assures her, his face—and even neck—becoming more red by the second. After a minute, he moves his head in my direction, but doesn't quite look _at_ me. "And, um… to answer your question: …Yeah," he simply says.

"Oooh!" I can feel my whole face widen in shock and happiness for him. "You lucky dog!" Now is my turn to smack someone, as I raise my fist and lob it into his arm.

"Dad, what does 'shag' mean?" Shaun asks me.

"Don't you dare answer that!" Beth hisses at me. To Shaun, "Nothing, sweetie. They're just talking about some adult things." I can feel my son's eyes boring holes into the side of my face—along with my wife—but I'm too tied up with looking at Danse's expression to really pay attention.

Before I can make any other comments, Gary's daughter—Angela, who waitresses here—brings out our food, including Danse's quick order of iguana bits. We're all so hungry—especially Danse from his long trip—that we eat in silence. But I'm determined to not let him keep the details from me. Beth would be calling me nosy if she knew my plans—even telling me to stay out of it, since it's none of my business. And that's exactly why I won't be telling her about said plans—I'll be asking him all about it in private once we're home.

Now that we're all together, we gather our belongings after we finish eating and say goodbye to the Capital Wasteland. I really was glad to have come—and to have stayed nearly a month in total. But all good things must come to an end. Plus, with Shaun's birthday coming up rather soon, I know Beth would want to be home to celebrate it, instead of being stuck on a boat and having to make the best out of a can of Cram to suffice as a birthday cake—which _none_ of us would enjoy. Well… maybe with the exception of Vitya.

When we get home finally, and unpack the few things we had taken, we find it weird that Curie hasn't come to say hello and ask how our trip was. As Beth starts making an actual cake for Shaun, I head to Curie's house to see if she's there. She's not—but a note in elegant font is.

 _Monsieur and Madame:_

 _I know this is a poor way of giving you this news, but I am not sure when you will return._

 _I am headed to Sanctuary Hills. They are trying to build a community there, and I feel my presence would be more appreciated where I can be used. Also, there may be more technology northwest of here. I have seen most of what Spectacle Island has to offer, and, as a scientist, I feel it is my duty to move on—to find more things to study._

 _I know this must be hard to understand—why I am leaving, and why I chose to write a note instead of tell you face to face. I just think it will be easier this way. For all of us._

 _Come visit me sometime!_

 _-Curie_

When I show the note to Beth, she can't believe Curie would just up and leave like that. She storms out the door, heading toward the boathouse to leave immediately, when I remind her, "Shaun's birthday?"

She walks back into the house and says she'll leave in the morning. "I know you're tired from our trip to DC," she tells me. "I'll go to Sanctuary by myself and see what's up."

After everybody gets some cake to celebrate Shaun's twelfth birthday, it's decided that Beth would leave in the morning and take both boys with her. Vitya would stay here with me and Danse. _Perfect,_ I think. _I get to hear the details about Danse and Haylen. Finally._ I grin, finding it hard to wait for the morning.

* * *

"Nice to be back in our own bed," Beth says as she sinks down onto the mattress.

"It is," I agree.

After a minute, she guesses, "You're going talk to Danse about Haylen first thing after I leave, aren't you?"

I nod. "You know it."

She sighs then chuckles. "Just can't keep your nose out of it, huh?" She faces me. "What is it with men and sex?"

I widen my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just curious."

"And I'm not?" she counters. "I just like to keep it a thing between my husband and I. You don't think it's weird—you asking him about it? Not even a little bit?"

"Hey, I'm just curious," I repeat. "I guess it's different for women, but for us men…" I lean up on my elbow and brace my hand on her other side, so I tower over her. "It's just another topic of conversation. Since we can't talk about who makes the best handbags, or what colour we'll paint our nails."

"We don't talk about those things anymore. We talk about more important stuff—like what kind of gun is our favourite, and what guys have the nicest butts."

"Same thing as sex," I tease her, leaning down to kiss her neck.

"Not exactly," she argues, starting to get breathless already.

"Close enough." I look up at her. "So, who has the nicest butt?"

"Obviously, you." She leans up to kiss me back.

"Well, you said so yourself," I say around her lips.

"Hm?"

"Nice to be back in our own bed." I pull away from her to see her impish grin she reserves for moments like these.

* * *

 _A/N: Hehe... Butts..._

 _I know I'm immature, but it's okay. I love it, to be honest._


	46. 45 Dick's Everywhere

45\. Dick's Everywhere

MacCready POV

I wake in the morning wearing not much more than the sheets. Beth had apparently fed Vitya recently, as she lays on her side, her head resting in the palm of her hand. She dressed in only a big shirt. And she's staring at me. "Morning." I take her other hand in my own and give it a kiss.

"Morning." I close my eyes again, not quite ready to get up.

"So, I have a question," Beth says, drawing me from my doze.

"What's that?" I open one eye and look at her—she's still laying in the same position.

"How did my bra end up on the ceiling fan last night?" She looks up above the bed, to the fan, where the bra she speaks of slowly makes slow, lazy circles.

I faintly remember all but ripping it off her in the heat of the moment last night, and tossing it somewhere. Apparently, it took more of a vertical flight than a horizontal one. I shake my head, pretending to not know. "No clue."

"Uh-huh." She smirks at me. "You know how—you just don't want to fess up." I shrug, allowing that much. She chuckles. "Anyway," she starts another topic. "I guess I should get ready to leave here in a bit." She stands on the bed, snatching her brassiere from near the ceiling, and chooses her clothing. As she's pulling on a pair of jeans, she asks, "Can you get the boys up while I make breakfast?"

"I'll do one better than that," I respond, finally crawling out of bed myself. "I'll make breakfast while you wake them up." I pull on some jeans myself and walk over to Vitya—who I see is lying in her crib contently, playing with her fingers. She sees me and raises her arms, smiling up at me.

As I carry Victoria into the kitchen and start to prepare some food, I hear Beth waking Duncan. He gets up easily and comes downstairs, sitting in the living room still half asleep. Now I hear her trying to wake Shaun. _Trying_ being the key word here. I hear him just grunt, and I imagine him rolling over, trying to ignore her and go back to sleep.

"Duncan?" He looks through the door at me, blinking several times in hopes of his eyes focusing.

"Hm?" He rubs his face, attempting to wake up more.

"Think you can help Mom wake up Shaun? You seem to do pretty well at it."

Without a word, he stands and heads back up the stairs, and—within a few minutes—he, Shaun, and Beth all come down and sit at the table, picking up a few fried tato patties and some scrambled Mirelurk eggs. Once I bite into the food myself, I'm happy to find that it turned out better than I thought. Vitya seems to think so, too, as she happily takes the small bites of egg Beth gives her.

After breakfast—and a few more minutes of them getting ready—Beth and the boys are ready to head to Sanctuary.

* * *

"I'll miss you," I tell Beth and the boys as they board the boat with their rucksacks. I shift Vitya in my arms. "You boys keep your mom safe, alright?"

"We will, Dad," Duncan replies. "Now that I have Shaun's pistol, we can both take care of her now." He smiles at Beth, and she at him.

After Shaun's birthday celebration yesterday, Beth and I discussed "upgrading" his weapon. So, we gave him a lever-action rifle, and he seems to love it already. Since he had gotten something better, we gave Duncan the 10mm pistol Shaun was carrying around with him—an upgrade of his own.

We say our farewells, and off they go. As soon as they're out of the boathouse—and well on their way north—I spin on my heel, and make my way to Danse's house, knowing I'm being far too nosy. But I don't care enough to turn and leave, so I knock on the door once I'm in front of it.

"Hey, Robert." He holds his arms out as soon as he sees Vitya. "Hey, Victoria!" She responds to him almost as enthusiastically as she does with me. She raises her tiny arms toward him, happy and smiling. "So," Danse continues as she settles in her godfather's hold. "I'm just going to assume since Beth left, you're here for details about what happened back in DC." He leaves me and the open door behind as he heads toward the couch.

Leaving the door standing open as is, I walk through the frame and sit on his bench press across from him. "I'd say you know me pretty well, Danser." I cross my ankle on top of my knee, waiting for him to elaborate. However, he just sits there, watching Victoria play with the teddy bear he now keeps on his couch for when she's here.

"I don't want to discuss it with a baby here," he tells me, his excuse to not talk about it.

"She's seven months old!" I exclaim. "It's not like she'll know what you're talking about. C'mon, I'm curious." As the silence drags on, I swear he's serious about what he said. But then he speaks.

"I'm not really one for details," he finally says, still looking down at her. "But, I will say this much:

"When you, Beth, and the kids left, Haylen and I just talked for a long time. It'd been a while since I was exiled, and we haven't seen each other since—we only spoke over your ham radio a time or two. And you saw, by the time you guys came back, we were plenty comfortable, leaning against the barricades. I'm not even sure how long it took for us to finally sit down—my feet didn't even hurt standing like that until she'd mentioned how good the ground looked for a seat." He chuckles. "Anyway… after you'd come back, and we talked about meeting in Rivet City, she said she wanted to show me the view from the top of the monument." He smirks as he says, "I shouldn't have fallen for it, but… Oh, well."

He takes a deep breath. "She told me that she loved me. That she had for a long time." His thick brows knit together. "I'd always just seen her as a comrade in arms, a good friend. But once she said that, I realized that—in a way—I guess I've _kinda_ loved her back for a while." He focuses his eyes back to the present, again looking to the infant on his lap. "Anyway, we were alone, one thing lead to another, and the night ended up being longer than anticipated." He clears his throat, clearing nervous in talking about it, and not wishing to expand any further.

"Well," I say, trying to keep my imagination at bay. "Sounds like you had a good time. She going to be moving back to Boston now?"

"Uh… no. She's stationed in DC now, and it doesn't look like that's going to change anytime soon." He moves the teddy bear playfully in front on Vitya while frowning slightly.

"Do you love her? Like, in your guts? I noticed a little bit ago, you said you _kinda_ did."

He looks up at me. "Honestly… I'm not sure." He hands Victoria the bear and holds her closer to him. "I'd have to be with her more to know. And that's sorta out of the question. If only I were still with the Brotherhood…"

"But wouldn't that be deemed fraternalization?"

He nods. "Our other brothers and sisters did a decent enough job hiding it most of the time. We wouldn't have been the only couple in the faction." He looks to the teddy bear as it falls out of Vitya's grasp—she'd fallen asleep right there in his arms. He smiles at her. "Anyway. It was a one night thing," he sums up. "I'm just glad to be home with my family now. The whole situation was confusing, and kind of hurt my head."

I chuckle. "Yeah. Women can do that."

* * *

It's been several days since Beth and the boys left. For the past few nights, Danse has been coming over to help watch Vitya and have dinner with us. He told me he knows what it's like to be alone suddenly, and doesn't want me to feel that. And—although he wouldn't admit to it—I'm pretty sure Victoria was the main reason. She has him wrapped around her little finger so much.

As we're finishing up tonight's leftover stew, I hear a couple of pairs of small feet running through the front door. "We're home, Dad!" Duncan yells.

I set my spoon down and walk into the living room as I see the boys drop their bags onto the floor. They each give me an overdue hug, then dash into the kitchen, having smelled food.

Beth puts her own bag next to theirs and walks up to me, showing a small yet heartfelt smile. Wrapping her arms around me, I all but absorb her into my own body. After a minute, I pull back, asking, "So, what happened?"

She sighs. "Curie isn't even in Sanctuary anymore." She flops down onto the nearest armchair, tired from the trip. "Preston said she was there for a little while, but then left suddenly. She left him a note like she did us, although it wasn't as long or detailed. He said she was probably headed back to 81." She sniffs the air. "Stew?"

I nod. "Leftovers."

"Get me some?" she asks, looking beat.

"Sure." I head back into the kitchen to get her a bowl of the grub. I see Shaun holding Victoria as he and Duncan eat. I'm impressed he's actually able to balance his baby sister and eat at the same time.

"They won't let me leave," Danse chuckles. "Your boys are holding me hostage."

"They're vicious," I say, earning a round of giggles from the so called "captors," as Beth walks from the living room to the table. I look to her as she takes her bowl from me. "Would you want to go check on her—see if she's settled?"

Beth shakes her head. "We shouldn't. We just got back—again. And although Duncan and Shaun aren't as used to travel as I am, they're still full of energy. You saw," she chuckles. "And I'm in no way ready to go back out. I'm pooped." She stands to retrieve a bottle of water.

"In a few days?" I ask her. "After you've recouped?"

"I don't know if they'd want to." She looks to the boys, who are just finishing their own bowls of stew. "Would you want to go back out in a few days?"

Duncan shakes his head. "I kinda wanna stay home." Shaun nods in agreement.

"Well, there's your answer." Beth sits and takes a bite, nodding in approval.

"If you want to—and feel like it," Danse says, "I could stay here with them and Victoria—let you two go back out into the wasteland. It's been a while since you've been able to go without worrying about your kids."

"Would you be able to handle three children?" I ask him, almost skeptically.

He gives me a tired look. "I do quite often here at home anyway. I think you forget how often the boys come over to my house, and how much Vitya likes me." He takes her back from Shaun. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?" She smiles at him in response. He smirks at me in return, as if her grin proved him right all the more.

"What do you think?" I ask Beth. "You, me—the beautiful wide open spaces of downtown Boston." I chuckle at my sarcasm. "Sound fun?"

She sighs. "It has been a while…"

"Go," Shaun says as he takes his and Duncan's bowls to the sink. "You guys deserve some time off. Danse is capable."

"I know Danse is capable," I reply sardonically while I rub his hair out of its place.

"Then it won't be a problem," Danse says. "We'll figure something out. Right, guys?" The boys nod.

"Alright," Beth declares. "We'll go in a few days then."

* * *

After a few days' worth or recuperation, Beth and I took off toward Vault 81. The boat ride there seemed shorter than normal for me, but for Beth—it was as long as ever. But we finally made it, and are now descending into the big nuclear bunker.

The Overseer, Gwen McNamara, says she hasn't seen hide or hair of the woman we described to her. She asks, "You said she was a nanny bot down here that worked on a cure for the disease Austin had?"

"Yeah," Beth answers. "She lived with us for a while, but then she was gone when we came back from our last big trip. I checked around to see if I could find her someplace else, but no luck. I had gotten indication that she was headed here."

"Unfortunately, I think your informant was wrong. We haven't seen any woman going by the name 'Curie.' I'm sorry."

"Well, thanks for your time anyway," I tell the lady. "I guess we'll keep looking."

Beth and I turn to leave, disappointed that nobody in the vault has seen Curie—not the guards, nor the residents. And now that we've checked, not even the Overseer.

"She has to be somewhere, right?" Beth muses aloud. "Maybe she told Preston she was coming here but changed her mind on the way?" She looks to me, saying, "I hope she's okay, Robert. She hasn't had the experience out here that you and I have had. What if she got hurt?" Her face starts to border on panic as she asks, "What if she's dead?"

"I'm sure she's just fine," I try to assure her, although I'm not feeling too certain about it myself. "She's a scientist, so she can at least apply that somehow, right?" Beth looks like I've lost my mind— _How can a scientist survive out here?_ "Like, she'll know what can be ate, and what's bad for you. Same with water. She may not be the most capable person when it comes to defense, but she is smart." We board the elevator, ready to be taken to the top. "She's fine," I repeat.

Before the door to the elevator can close, we hear a woman call out to us. "Monsieur! Madame!" I put my arm out to catch the door.

"Curie?" Beth calls back.

" _Oiu!_ " Curie stops in front of us as we step out of the elevator. She panting quite heavily, still not quite used to breathing, nevertheless breathing hard. "I was down in the secret vault, when I heard you asking for me." She's probably talking about the sound system Vault-Tec had installed to listen in on their "subjects" who lived in the vault.

Beth walks up to her and gives her a hug. "I was so worried about you, Curie. Why did you just run off like that, leaving a note and expecting us to not try and find you?"

"I do not know," she says, looking to the ground in sudden conviction, and finally catching her breath. "I told you in my note that I felt all of the island had been explored. It has always been my dream to travel the world—to try and find other men and women of science—and to try and further scientific knowledge. It is hard to do this when all I do is stay at home all the time." She looks back up to Beth. "Please do not be mad at me. I am, and always will, be grateful for the time I spent with you and your family. You have helped me understand this world above ground better. And how to be more human," she chuckles, indicating her synth body. "But, in every life, there is a time where one must, how to say, 'plow their own furrow.' This is my time.

"I bought a firearm while I was on the road. And I'm learning more about the wastes everyday. I believe I will be fine, madame." She gives her another hug, then turns and unexpectedly gives me one. "Take care of your family, _oui_? You have a fine one, the two of you." She turns to go back into the depths of the vault. " _Au revoir!_ "

* * *

Beth POV

 _Bury My Heart_ by Peter Gundry

"So, that was something, huh?" Although I can understand why Curie wants to go out into the world, it's still hard to grasp _how_ she's going to. Sure, she might be a scientist—and a good one at that—but does she have the necessary skills to kill enemies or food? To find useful tools in the ruins? Things that are second nature to me by now.

"Yeah," Robert agrees. "It was."

Out of the blue, I think about something that happened quite a lot when we were back in DC. As we step out of the elevator and start to make our way back outside, I ask him, "Back when we were in Little Lamplight, why did everyone call you RJ and not Robert? I mean, I get why—what with your name being Robert Joseph, but still."

He chuckles at the randomness, then shrugs. "I'm not sure. Maybe because it was easier to say, or it sounded better to them." He shrugs again.

Stepping out into the sun after all the artificial light makes us momentarily blind. After I can see again, I ask, "How come you never told me to call you that instead? Seems like after all those years of hearing it, that'd be what you liked and preferred."

"Not really. Actually, it's quite the opposite. Hearing everybody call me RJ for years on end—and you know how kids are, they're _always_ wearing your name out—I kinda got tired of it. The only person I didn't mind hearing it from was Lucy."

I nod. "Makes sense, I guess."

We pass by Chestnut Hill Reservoir, and although I notice some noises, I just mark them up to being caused by the bloatflies on the other side of the water. They don't seem to notice us, and that's fine by me.

But the noises weren't caused by the mutated insects. And I shouldn't have ignored them.

"Got you now!"

I spin and see a man has captured Robert within his grasp, and he's holding a knife to his throat. I start to lunge at him—to do something—but Robert puts his hands up, telling me to stay back.

"What do you want?" I ask the man. He seems half-crazed—and if his muscles are any indication—clearly capable of killing Robert within seconds.

"You don't know?" he asks, sounding hurt. He then does a one-eighty and chuckles. "I guess you don't recognize me without my gear on, huh?"

Although I've never seen his face, I known his voice. "Dick?" _How can this be him? Did he follow us?_

"Yes!" He looks excited. "It's me!"

He's a rather nasty-looking man. His nose looks like it's been broken more than a few times. And it wouldn't surprise me if it has been, what with his being a security guard and how he's so cocky. His black hair is pulled back into a small ponytail, and he seems to be blind in his right eye—most likely from the large scar that reaches from it to his jawline. He smiles at me with a few missing teeth.

I swallow the lump that's starting to form in my throat. Again, I ask, "What do you want, Richard?" I decide calling him by his name, rather than his potentially offensive—and therefore threatening—nickname, may put him in a better mood—and able to get Robert away from him easier.

"I've told you before," he replies. "Have you forgotten so quickly? That hurts, sweetheart."

"Go to hell. She's not your sweet—" Robert starts to say before being shut up by the blade at his throat being moved closer.

"He's feisty." Dick acts like he makes the connection. "Oh, I see. The little bastard that charged me in Diamond City is his, huh?" He chuckles darkly. "Like father, like son, I suppose."

I take a new approach. "What can I do? …What can I do to make this go away?"

"You can't," he says. "Only thing to do is get rid of this son of a bitch. And that's what I intend to do. You'll be all mine in a minute." He moves the blade into position.

"No!" I yell, only to clear my throat. He looks up at me, surprised to have heard me raise my voice. "I mean. Why kill a man when I can be all yours right _now_?"

He looks even more shocked. "Mine? _Now?_ "

"Right now," I tell him. "Just let him go, and I'll never see him again. I'm all yours, right now. You can't take me like you've been wanting to if you're holding him hostage."

He thinks it through. "You're right." He lowers the blade and drops his other arm from holding Robert. Yet, my husband stays put. "You're right…" He looks around on the ground, as if he's seeing something I can't. _He's delusional,_ I think. "But," he continues, "he'll try to stop us. I know he will. This should slow him down some."

What happens next, I'm in no way prepared for.

He takes the knife in his hand and plunges it into the left side of Robert's back.

As Robert falls to the ground, wide eyes looking into my own the whole way down, I scream, "No!" I leap forward and take the very knife from Dick's hand before he has the chance to respond in any fashion. I don't know how I'm able to move and function as fast and efficiently as I am—yet I'm grateful I'm able to. With the same knife, still covered in Robert's blood, I start to stab Dick—right in the frickin' throat.

One stab, two stabs—so many gouges later, that I've lost count. He's dead, and that's all I know and care about. There's blood everywhere. It's covering him completely. It's on my hands and arms, on my hair, my face. Everything's painted red in the near vicinity—including my vision, tainted red with anger.

Finally—after brutally murdering my husband's assailant—I remember Robert lying on the ground behind me.

As I turn around to see where Robert is, I see him trying to get to me—but his crawling attempts are met with failure. There's blood around him, too—his own.

I run over to him, yelling, "Don't move! You're gonna make it worse!" There's too much blood to see the wound, but from how he's acting, I'd say it was a rather deep stab. I realize I'm crying, and this makes it very difficult to see anything clearly.

I reach into the bag that fell off when I attacked Dick, grabbing some Med-X and a couple Stimpaks. I quickly—and unfortunately, expertly—inject the pain med near the large penetration. "Beth," he says—quietly, but I can hear it.

"Shh-shut up!" I know I'm being too rough, and that this is no time to verbally abuse him, but I can't help my firmness. It has always been something I've done: be firm when I'm worried.

"No," he says stubbornly. "Listen." He grabs my arm as I'm about to pick up one of the Stimpaks. "If I don't make it—"

"You're going to!" A fresh wave of hot tears appear.

"If I don't, tell the boys how much I loved being their dad."

"No…" I wipe at the new drops of precipitation falling from my eyes, leaving a smear of blood in their wake.

"Yes," he tells me. "And tell—" He takes a few laboured breaths. "Tell Vitya how much I loved her."

"You tell her when we get home," I respond just as stubbornly. I ignore whatever he's about to say and inject the two Stimpaks I have with me. _Why didn't we bring more with us?!_

"I love you," he all but whispers.

"Shut up…" I repeat—not in such a fierce tone this time, but rather a subdued one. I wait for the miracle drug to kick in—to sew the wound closed like I've seen it do on so many occasions. It seems to take little, if no effect. I want to scream out, but I know it won't do any good, and my voice is too gave out to produce any sound at this point anyway.

I sit in silence.

* * *

 _A/N: I think I have a knack for this whole stabbing MacCready thing. First in chapter 37, now here. I'm not sorry. Sadly._


	47. 46 Ailment

_A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter. But I had to. For... reasons._

* * *

46\. Ailment

Beth POV

The time it took to get home was ridiculous. But, considering the events that took place—and how worn out I am—I'm surprised I'm not home later than this.

I leave the boathouse, and before going anywhere else, I look around the island. Everything seems to be normal, in place. A pleasant surprise and nice change in comparison to yesterday's incident. _Good to see at least one thing's not in chaos._

Seeing Danse's house, I decide to stop there before proceeding home. I want his opinion on what to do before seeing the boys. _I hope they're not with him right now._

I walk up to his door and knock. Within a few seconds, he opens it with Victoria in his arms. Straight away, I ask, "Are the boys here?"

"Uh… No. You sound awful."

"I _feel_ awful," I concede.

"Please. Come in." He moves back from the door and lets me walk past him into his house as I take Tori from him.

"I'm not going to stay long, so I'll just stand for now." I look down to my daughter. She looks as tired as I feel. "We did find Curie," I tell him. "But then things got out of hand once we left the vault." He looks confused. I quickly explain that she'd moved from Sanctuary to Vault 81, and that she still doesn't really plan on staying there either. While I'm telling him all this, he doesn't lose his deeply concerned expression. "Anyway. Robert and I ran into—" I have a hard time not using terms I shouldn't around Victoria. "We, uh, we ran into—let's just say a nuisance we'd dealt with a couple times in Diamond City." I notice Tori had fallen asleep.

"You look like hell, all covered in blood like that," Danse tells me as he indicates the blood I'm covered in, both from Robert and Dick, that I've yet to scrub off. "But especially you, Robert. You look like crap warmed over."

"I don't feel much better than that honestly," Robert says from behind me. "I tell you what: those Stimpaks are worth every bottlecap."

"You can say that again," I tell him as he reaches out for our daughter.

I continue to tell Danse about the ambush Dick had orchestrated. How he'd not only threatened Robert, but how he'd also stabbed him. I tell him how I went off on Dick, and how I barely had time to get to Robert before the wound could have turned fatal.

"Wow," is all Danse can manage to get out. "I don't know how you lived," he says as he looks at the now permanent scar on Robert's back. "He got really close to your kidney. If the blade would've been another inch to the left, you'd be dead. And surely not able to come home to your children."

Robert—who is now sitting on Danse's couch—looks down to his precious Vitya, and smiles. "I know." He doesn't have to say anything else. He knows how lucky—or blessed, or whatever—he is to have lived through it.

I cut into both of their trains of thought. "Babe, let's get you home so you can rest, okay?" He nods and gets a little help from Danse in standing so we can leave.

Once we're home—and I take Tori from him—he lays down on the couch, too worn out to climb the stairs. And who says I blame him?

"You know," he says, "I think this is going to take a little time to stop hurting," he chuckles, only to stop as it apparently caused too much pain.

"I'm afraid so," I agree. "I'll take good care of you, I promise." I kiss his forehead. "Need anything right now?" He shakes his head. "Okay. I'm going to go look for Shaun and Duncan. Who knows where they ran off to."

Warily, I leave the house and start to walk toward the boys' treehouse. The location they most often occupy when not in the house.

"Boys!" I call as I near the structure. "Boys?"

I hear, "Mom's home," as I see them both jump from the treehouse. They come up to me and give me a big hug. I realize it was Shaun who announced my arrival when he asks, "Where's Dad?"

"In the house," I tell them. " _But,_ " I add as they're about to run and greet him, too. "He got hurt on the way home. Now, I don't want you to worry about him, okay?" I can see they're already starting to. "He should be fine. He's just resting now. It's going to take a little while for him to get back to normal, so if you two would: be gentle with him, and try not to make too much noise for now. Alright?" They both nod. "I appreciate it. Now. You can go see him, but if he's sleeping, don't disturb him, okay?" They nod again and start running toward the house. "Slow down!" I have to remind them.

* * *

Again, with a little help from Danse—since I'm not strong enough by myself—we manage to get Robert upstairs and in bed. He passes out within a couple minutes. Danse had said he'd continue to watch Tori for us—to give Robert the time he needs to make a full recovery, and me the ability to watch him without distractions. I'm grateful for him as I lay in bed next to my sleeping husband, watching his chest heave with every breath he takes.

"I almost lost you," I quietly tell him in his unconscious state. "What would I have done if I did?" I put my hand gently on his cheek, and even as he sleeps, he leans into it, smiling slightly in content. I can't help my own grin. "I surely couldn't have come home," I continue, whispering as to not wake him. "It wouldn't be the same. Life wouldn't have been the same. I mean, I know I have the kids, but… I probably wouldn't have been too far behind you if you died." I can feel my eyes wanting to produce tears at just the thought. "But, thank God we don't have to deal with that now." I take my hand off his cheek only to replace it with a small kiss. His smile widens. "Goodnight."

* * *

MacCready POV

 _This Is Gospel (Piano Version)_ by Panic! At The Disco

She thought I was asleep last night. But I wasn't—for most of it anyway. I heard her say that life would never be the same, and she hinted at taking her own life if I'd died. I can't imagine her committing suicide of I were to cease living—she has so many good things in her life: Shaun, Duncan, Victoria, Danse; a nice, big house; a good career with the Brotherhood. So many good things, and she would have been willing to just throw it all away because of me? I wouldn't let her. Even if I were already dead, I'd still find a way somehow to stop her—as a ghost, or calling in favours with the spirits floating in the wind. Something. Anything.

As I start to wake up—on my back, I notice—I don't feel Beth in bed. But I do feel someone else.

Opening my eyes, I see Duncan sitting in Beth's place, staring at me. "What're you doing?" I ask him.

"Mom told me to watch you. So, I'm watching you." He continues to bore holes into my face.

"How long have you been here, bud?" I adjust my shoulders, trying to get more comfortable without jostling my abdomen too much.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "A little while." He carefully scoots a little closer. "Are you hurting?"

"A little bit. Not too bad since I'm not moving. Why do you ask?"

"You were making faces in your sleep. Want me to go get some Med-X?"

"No, I'll be fine. You don't have to watch me anymore, Duncan." I open my left arm up to him, the arm on his side. "C'mere. I haven't hugged you in a while." Carefully—still watching his every movement—he lays down next to me and lets me wrap my arm around him. Kissing him on the top of the head, I tell him, "You know I love you. Right?"

"Yeah. I love you, too, Dad."

* * *

A little while later, I realize I'd fallen back to sleep—and feeling Duncan still next to me, I realize he'd fallen asleep right along with me. I hear Beth walking in. She stops on her side of the bed, then slowly—quietly—makes her way to my side. She touches Duncan's arm, and he—from the feel of it—looks up at her in a daze. "You're supposed to be watching him while I make breakfast," she whispers to him.

"He told me he doesn't need to be watched," he whispers right back at her.

"He does, too," Beth says stubbornly, putting her hand on my forehead. Probably checking for a temperature.

She takes her hand off as I turn my head in her direction and open my eyes, grinning at her. "Worried, are we?"

"Always," she admits. "You doing okay?"

I nod. "Fine. And I don't have a fever." I go to get up, but quickly abandon the notion. Beth looks at me with concern. "I'm fine," I reassure her. "Just think I'm gonna stay here for a while."

She shakes her head and walks into the bathroom. Coming back with a bottle, she opens it and pours out a couple pills. "Here. Take these."

Although I don't know what they're for, I trust her judgement and take them with the water she'd set out on my nightstand. She sits down on the bed next to me, and within a minute, I feel so tired that I could pass out. I blink my eyes several times, and ask, "What did you give me?"

"Something I got from Cade on the Prydwen. They're for pain. Are they working?"

I nod—hugely and sloppily out of exhaustion—but I do notice the pain in my back has receded greatly. I find I can't keep my eyes open anymore. "I'm tired?" It comes out more as a question than a statement, and slightly slurred.

"Oh," she chuckles. "They also help you sleep. Well, good to know they're effective." She stands and starts to leave. "Duncan—watch him this time. I'll be back with some food and—"

I know she must have finished that sentence, but my consciousness slipped and fell down a flight of stairs.

* * *

I wake with a start, jerking my back, and grimacing at the hurt it caused.

"You okay?" Beth asks. I look over to see her lying in bed, her pajamas on. _Is it nighttime already?_ I nod, settling back onto the mattress. "What happened?"

"Had to relive the other day, is all," I respond. She rubs my arm sympathetically. "What time is it?"

She looks to her Pip-Boy on the nightstand. "Around midnight."

"It's that late?" I'm curious as to how the time had gone by so quickly.

She chuckles. "You were knocked out all day. That medicine Cade gave me sure does the trick, huh?" _She must've got that when she was still pregnant,_ I think. _I know her back bothered her for a while._ "I'm glad I never had to take it," she continues. "It'd drive me nuts, being out for that long."

"What were those pills anyway? An over-the-counter coma inducer?" I try to get up again, and despite the negligible pain I feel, I make myself sit up anyway. While I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, Beth turns on the light from her Pip-Boy—that way it's not too bright for the boys across the hall—and lifts up my shirt to look at the wound site.

"Well, it looks better than it did earlier. So, that's a plus." Letting my shirt settle back down, she gets on top of the comforter and crawls toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and resting her head between my shoulder blades. "I love you," she tells me.

"I love you, too." I put my hand over both her arms in front of me. "You don't need to worry so much, Beth. I'll be fine. You don't have to tell Duncan to watch me sleep, or make me take strange pills just to feel better. Let me try and do stuff, okay? I'm tougher than I look, I swear."

She chuckles. "You look pretty tough to me already."

"Then let me try to get back to normal," I say. "I know you just want to help—and I appreciate it—but honestly, it makes me feel weird, you waiting on me hand and foot like that, babe."

She gives me a gently squeeze. "I know. It was weird having help with things around here when I was pregnant with Vitya. I'll try to back off a hair, okay?" She kisses the back of my neck and crawls back to her side of the bed. I'm grateful for her understanding, but I'm not able to move past hearing her say "Vitya" again.

"You aware of what you just said?" I ask her.

"Yeah," she sighs. "I swore I'd never call her that—cause it was so weird, but… Well, it _was_ weird. Now, not so much." I can hear her grinning as she asks, "I'm never gonna hear the end of it, huh?"

I want to turn around, to see her expression, but I refrain in fear of striking that pain up again. Instead, I lay my hand on the mattress behind me, wanting her to grab it—and she does. "You can call her whatever you want," I tell her. "Victoria, Tori, _Vitya_. It doesn't matter to me. She's your daughter, too. So, no. You just heard the end of it. I won't mock you, Beth. Why would I?" She pulls my hand up to her mouth and kisses my palm.

"Now," I continue. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna stay up for a while. Considering I've been sleeping all day, I'm not tired anymore." She chuckles. I take up the book on my nightstand. "Goodnight," I tell her, my hand still in her grasp, even as she falls back to sleep.


	48. 47 Advancement

47\. Advancement

MacCready POV

 _Little Wonders_ by Rob Thomas

It's been a few weeks since I got stabbed. Most everyday tasks were difficult to accomplish, but with the help of my wife, friend, and sons, I was able to focus on getting better. And although I still haven't made a full recovery, I am doing much better. Danse still insists on keeping Vitya for now. She has him under her trance—just like the rest of us. That's for certain.

Duncan's birthday is tomorrow, and Beth has been emotional over it.

"I can't believe he's turning seven," she tells me as we go through our nightly routine of getting ready for bed.

" _You_ can't believe it? You've known him for less than two years of his life. Imagine how I feel." Climbing under the comforter, I say, "My little boy's not so little anymore."

She crawls in next to me. "I know." Resting her head on my arm, she asks, "What flavour cake do you think he'll want tomorrow? I can try to make my best impersonation of strawberry with mutfruit if he wants it. Keyword: _try._ " She chuckles.

Not even able to focus on what she said, I chuckle immaturely. "Mutfruit."

"Yes, mutfruit. Have you forgotten you can cook with it, too?" She laughs. "You're tweaked."

"And you still married me, so…" I grin at her as she shrugs.

"Sometimes I wonder why." At my face of feigned offense, she responds, "Kidding," and plants a kiss on my bicep before scooting under the covers more.

* * *

"Are you serious?" Beth asks Duncan.

"Yeah," he replies. "Dad told me about the time you guys went into the Super-Duper Mart, and how the cookie aisle was like, the only one to get crushed. I've always wanted to know what they tasted like."

"You sure?" she asks again. "Chocolate's kind of a thing of the past, and I don't know what other kind to make."

"You can figure something out," I call to her from the living room. She looks at me from behind the kitchen island.

"We have any peanut butter?" She gasps. "Oh, I've got it. Duncan—can you help me carry something in from the garden?" He nods, and they both walk out the back door—leaving me curious. _Peanut butter doesn't grow on a vine. Right?_

A few minutes later, both Beth and Duncan come back carrying some gourds. As Duncan comes into the living room, I notice Beth washing the outside of them before cutting them into small chunks, and placing them in a pot with some water on the stove. _What on earth…_

Wondering into the kitchen myself, I stand behind her—watching her every motion—as she pools together some ingredients and puts them on the island. A couple of the ingredients I recognize as being sugar and butter made from brahmin milk.

"Whatcha makin'?" I ask.

"Duncan wants cookies. Cookies he shall get," she replies as she retrieves a couple bowls and mixing utensils.

"And the gourds are for…?"

She looks at me pointedly. "Uh, the cookies?" She looks towards the pot. "Check on that for me—see if the water's boiling?"

About half an hour later, the cookies are in the oven, and the house is starting to smell marvelous. "How come you've never made these?" I ask Beth.

"Because it never crossed my mind to make pumpkin cookies before. I just randomly remembered them when he said he wanted cookies." She shrugs.

At this time, Duncan and Shaun walk into the kitchen, wondering if the food making such a wonderful aroma is done or not. "Not yet," I chuckle. "Trust me. If they were done, my mouth would not be empty right now."

Beth laughs. "They're almost done. Patience, boys." She looks at me. "You, too."

I fake anger. "I'm not a boy. I'm a man!"

"You keep telling yourself that, dear." She pats my check as I crack a grin—not able to stay mad at her, nonetheless _pretend_ I am. Moving to the oven, she checks on the cookies and announces they are nearly done.

"I can't wait!" Duncan exclaims, sort of jumping in place. "They smell amazing!"

"Yup," Shaun agrees.

"I'll go get Danse," I tell Beth. "I'm sure he wants to be here. To celebrate with us, or to have cookies, though?" I look at Duncan.

He smiles at me. "Probably for the cookies. I wouldn't blame him!"

I make the short walk to Danse's house, and when I get there, I don't even knock. Why bother when the door is wide open, allowing the day's nice air to flow in and out?

I see the ex-Paladin, who seems to be hiding behind the couch. He pops up suddenly, looking over the back of it and down onto the cushions. This action is followed by what can only be Victoria's giggles. He backs down onto the floor again and repeats this action a few more times—always trailed by Vitya's laughter.

After a few minutes of watching them play, I clear my throat, grabbing Danse's attention. "Oh, hey." He holds his arms out to pick up Victoria, and she easily reaches right back to him. "Didn't see you standing there."

"I didn't think you did," I tell him, chuckling as I step away from the frame of the door I've been leaning against for the past couple minutes. "Anyway, I'm just letting you know about tonight. Duncan's having Beth make him some cookies for his birthday, and you're welcome to come over and have some with us. And I'll tell you right now: they smell _amazing_."

He grins. "Love to. What time?"

"Honestly, they're about to come out of the oven—if they haven't already. Any time would be good."

"Okay. Guess I'll come over now, then." We both leave his house as he closes his door and we make our way to the small and intimate birthday party of sorts.

As we're walking, Vitya randomly decides she doesn't want to be held by Danse anymore. She starts whining quietly and looks over at me—a rather subtle way to let me know she wants me now. But Danse and I know her too well and chuckle at her expression. Handing her to me, Danse says, "She has her ways of letting us know stuff, huh?"

Once she's in my arms, she lays her head on my shoulder, all content now. "She sure does." I go into thought for a moment, until he gets my attention by asking what's wrong. "She hasn't said much the past two or three months. She used to babble all the time. But she doesn't anymore."

"Maybe she's grown out of it?" He takes a seat in the living room, now that we're in the house.

"I don't know if babies can…" I wonder into the kitchen, still lost in my thoughts on the subject.

I go and sit on a barstool at the counter, looking down to Victoria. She looks back up at me, her eyes wide, a small grin on her face.

"Robert!" I look up to see Beth on the other side of the counter. "So lost in thought that you didn't hear me?" I shake my head, making her laugh. "Duncan's wanting us all to eat together in the living room. C'mon." She grabs my free hand and pulls me into the living room, where Shaun, Danse, and Duncan all sit. There's a plate of cookies—along with a few glasses of milk—on the sideboard where the radio sits, next to the eclectic collection of armchairs we own.

We all sing Happy Birthday to Duncan, give him all the birthday wishes, Danse marvels over how old he's getting—making the boy laugh, exclaiming he's not _that_ old—and soon night falls. Danse makes his way back to his house, leaving Vitya here with us for the first time in a few nights. Duncan and Shaun go to their rooms—to read, play, or go to bed, I'm not sure. Victoria refuses to be placed in her crib yet, wanting to stay in my arms for some reason, and falls asleep within thirty seconds.

With her asleep, I'm able to pass her to Beth just long enough to change into my night clothes and climb into bed. But before she wakes—and throws a fit—I take her back, allowing Beth to change herself.

"You know, I've been thinking," I start.

"I know you have," Beth replies. "I could see it on your face all night. What's up?"

"At Vitya's age, Duncan was talking up a storm. I couldn't understand him, of course. But he babbled _all_ the time." I look down to the topic I speak of. "She hasn't said much since we were in DC, or even before. …Do you think something's wrong with her?" Just the thought makes me upset. _I just want my daughter to be normal, happy. Is that too much to ask for?_

"I don't think so," Beth says, settling under the duvet. "Have you seen the look in her eyes? She's already smart—at eight months."

"Smart people can be mute," I say quietly, looking at Victoria's small hand resting on my chest. "I don't know what we'd do if she were mute. I wanna hear her talk—say 'Daddy.' Is it so wrong to want that?"

"No. It's not." Beth puts her hand on my arm. "Give her time, Robert. She may start tomorrow, she may start next year. Every baby is different. She'll let us know when she's ready to talk, to make advancements." She pulls my hand to her mouth and gives me a kiss. "Try to sleep. Worrying doesn't do anything."

"Then why were you busy worrying these past few weeks? I'm alive—nothing to fret over."

"You _could_ have died. I had reason to worry."

I look to Beth from Victoria. "And this is her life I'm worrying over."

"Touché. It's just not her time, I guess." She sighs. "I suppose I should practice what I preach, huh?" I nod. "We'll find out soon enough," she says. "Now sleep, hon."

I settle further into the mattress and hope for sleep to find me—Vitya laying on my torso as she often likes to do—but unconsciousness doesn't come for a good while, due to my wondering thoughts, my qualms about my baby girl. "Daddy loves you," I whisper, softly rubbing her back.

* * *

When I wake, I feel no weight on me. I snap my eyes open and see Victoria missing. Looking around frantically to see if she'd rolled off somewhere, I notice Beth is gone, too. _Probably took Vitya with her._

Bringing myself out of bed, I get dressed and head down the stairs. Walking into the living room, I see Beth sitting on the couch, facing away from me—she probably doesn't even know I woke up yet. I hear her talking, and come to realize she's reading Vitya a story.

When I step closer—quietly, as to not disturb them—I see Vitya sitting on the couch in front of Beth as she reads then shows the pictures of _Corduroy_ , a book Danse found and gifted to her. As I see the picture on the current page, Beth turns it and shows Victoria, who smiles and points at the teddy bear in the book.

"That's right," Beth says. "It's a teddy bear—your favourite. Say 'teddy?' Can you say 'teddy?'"

At this point, Vitya sees me standing behind her mother and points at me, smiling like she was at the book just mere seconds ago. Beth turns and grabs my hand. "You wanna finish this while I go start breakfast?"

"Sure." I take the book and replace her seat on the couch. And it's a shame Beth had already went into the kitchen, because Victoria does something I've never seen her do before.

Instead of reaching her arms up at me, wanting _me_ to grab and hold her—she actually moves herself, crawling the single foot between us, and makes her way onto my lap herself. And she does it so well, you'd think she's done it before, that she's a pro. Once in place—and I know I'm showing my shock as much as I'm feeling it—she leans her head against me, looking up at my face, and smiles.

Putting the book in front of her, she refocuses her attention onto the pictures. I take this as hint, trying my best to move on past her developmental advance, and start to read the page where Beth left off.

"'All at once he saw something small and round. "Why, here's my button!" he cried. And he tried to pick it up. But, like all the other buttons on the mattress, it was tied down tight.'" Vitya again points to the bear—Corduroy. "Teddy bear," I tell her. "I heard Mommy trying to help you say it. Will you say it for me? 'Teddy?'"

She points to Corduroy again, signaling she knows the word and the bear are the same. I nod. "Teddy bear." I pick up the bear Danse gave her along with the book. Handing it to her, she hugs it up to her chest, showing her love for the toy. But then, she drops it and looks up at me expectantly. "'Teddy?'" I try again.

She scoots away from me a bit, twisting herself a little to be able to see me better. She then points at me, "Daddy."

I gawk.

 _She just said Daddy! That's me!_

Beth runs in, having heard an unfamiliar voice—and assuming it's Victoria—she gawks at her, too. "Did she just…?" I nod, still bewildered and unable to talk.

I haven't taken my eyes away from Vitya's face since she uttered her first word. She's looking up at me, searching my face to see if I approve or not. She doesn't seem happy when she sees a few tears falling from the corner of my eye, but only because she doesn't understand that they're tears of joy—she thinks something's actually wrong. Showing her it's quite the opposite, I hug her to me, kissing the top of her head. "That's right. _Daddy…_ Daddy loves you, Vitya."

 _Keep moving forward._

* * *

 _A/N:_ Meet the Robinsons, _anyone?_


	49. 48 A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

48\. A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Beth POV

 _Summertime Sadness_ by Lana Del Rey

Victoria finally said her first word. Surprised the fire out of me since I was in the kitchen. I know it sure made Robert happy—her first word being "Daddy _._ " It sort of shocked me—her first word coming at just eight months. But as I'd said before: every baby's different. I can't help a chuckle at just the thought of her thinking he was upset, due to the happy tears he had shed. He was so worried about her—wondering if something was wrong with her, since she'd stopped babbling a while back—and I admit, I was kinda worried about it myself. But, as Robert let me know he had this fear, I swallowed back my own uncertainties in hopes of assuring him she was fine. Now, we don't have to worry.

Ever since she spoke that single word a few days ago, he's been hard at encouraging her to continue. So, every day since then, he regularly sits in his chair with Vitya in his lap— _internal sigh at my use of this nickname_ —reading whatever he can lay his hands on. It doesn't matter to him, just so it has words and she seems interested. In all honesty, it doesn't make a difference, because whatever he reads—as long as it's _him_ reading it—she's hooked on it instantly.

Even at the moment, he's in his chair with her. So, I walk up next him, resting my head on my arm as I place it on the back of his seat. "What're you reading?"

" _The Tell-Tale Heart._ " He places his finger where he stopped as he looks up at me.

"Isn't that a little macabre for an infant?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

"Not if you read it like I am." He turns his head back to the page, resuming. And I see what he means.

Although the words are gruesome, he uses a child-directed pitch in his voice, making her become consumed within the story, even though she doesn't know what's being read to her.

However, my attention is drawn away from this sweet yet odd scene by the sound of our ham radio going off. Walking to the kitchen, where we keep it, I pick up the mic. "This is Beth."

"Beth, this is Danny Sullivan from Diamond City Security. I wasn't sure if your ham had autopatch. I guess it does."

"Danny? How'd you get my number or whatever it's called?"

I hear someone talking aggressively in the background before Danny responds, "I can't say. Anyway—Mayor McDonough wants to have a word with you."

"Is he there? You can put him on."

"Can't do that either," he says. "You need to come to Diamond City for this, I'm afraid. And as soon as possible."

 _Weird,_ I think. _The mayor's never wanted to speak with me before. What's going on?_ "I'll, uh… I'll pack up a few things and be on my way," I tell Danny, my tone unsure due to my confusion of the situation.

"Good." A little quieter, yet I can tell he's closer to the mic, "Come quickly, please." Silence. The frequency goes dead.

"What was that about?" Robert asks as he walks up next to me, holding Tori.

"I'm not sure," I answer honestly. "McDonough's wanting to see me in Diamond City? It's really strange."

He nods. "Want me to come with you?" I take Victoria and head toward her favourite food—jars of pre-prepared crushed mutfruit—with her dad right behind me.

"Not the best idea—you're still tender. I'll ask Danse if he wants to get out with me." I sit at the table with Tori in my lap, she looking excitedly at the food I'm about to give her.

"I am _not_ tender," Robert argues. "I'm doing way better."

I reach over—him being not even two feet from me—and poke his side, near the wound from a little over three weeks ago. This causes him to recoil, a small grimace appearing on his features. "You're not tender, huh?"

He makes a face from being caught in the lie. "Maybe a little bit. You and Danse have fun, I guess. I'll stay here with the kids."

"You sure you can handle it?" I ask, a grin spreading on my lips.

"Okay, now you're just insulting me. I can handle my own children, thank you very much." He walks over to the fridge and grabs two Nuka-Colas—one for me, one for himself. I smile at how he still gets mad over little things—even after all this time.

* * *

Although he was a bit reluctant to come with me, Danse ended up agreeing. I told him Maxson most likely pulled all Brotherhood personnel from the settlement, meaning it'd be safe to wonder through there. He brought a bandana with him—just in case. I want to laugh at his cautious preparedness, but know the danger could be all too real if somebody were to recognize him, so I hold my tongue.

As we now walk through the entrance into the city, I see a commotion ahead. Getting closer, I see Danny Sullivan lying on the ground, pressed up against a nearby sign.

I run over to the four or five people surrounding him, asking, "What happened here?"

Danny looks up at me. "It's McDonough. He threw me out of the skybox—gone crazy, he did." His face looks like he's in agony—like he can't decide whether to grab at his broken leg or his bleeding side. I look up to the height from where he was flung—it's higher than I originally thought.

I reach into my bag I keep with me on trips. Pulling out two Stimpaks, I hand them to a nearby guard. "Inject these into him, wherever he needs it. And get Cocker or Sun over here, for the love of God!" Looking back to Danny, "I'm going to go deal with him. Do what you're told." I stand and start heading toward the lift, Danse right behind me.

* * *

"McDonough!" I step off the lift and walk toward his office. "I want to talk with you!" I look around until I see him. No guards are present—just him, and Geneva with her knees on the ground, her hands held in the air. "What is this about?"

"She betrayed me," McDonough says, looking down to the woman he now holds hostage.

"How so?" I want to step closer—to maybe try and save her—but I'm afraid it might do something against her favour.

"I'm… I'm not sure," the man replies. "All I know is that she ordered him to be killed, and that _you_ did it."

"What?" I ask, bewildered at what he's implying. "I haven't killed anybody."

"I'm not taking any chances." He pulls the trigger and Geneva falls over, dead. "I never cared for her, anyway," he finishes.

I've seen people murdered right before my eyes, but every time is different. I can't help but ogle at the woman's body lying on the floor.

"Who did she order me to kill?" I ask, a bit more specific this time, my eyes still on her corpse.

"Richard?" he asks, us both looking from Geneva's body to each other. "He was my best man, and you killed him. All thanks to her."

"Dick?" I blink, dazed. "I killed him?" I try to seem shocked at his presumption—even as he's correct. Danse stands behind me, silent.

"Don't play dumb, MacCready!" He now turns his gun on me.

"How do you know my last name?" I ask, hoping to deflect him.

"I know things. I know you married that merc here in my town back in May—and I know you killed Richard out by Vault 81. Geneva put you up to it, I'm certain. She never liked him."

I step forward, his threatening gun all but forgotten. "Geneva did not put me up to that! He was crazy, delusional. He was planning on killing my husband—and he damn near did when he _stabbed_ him. I'm so sure after he murdered my husband, he would have raped me—maybe taken me home with him as a sex slave or something. He _needed_ to be put down." I can feel heat coming off of Danse, still standing behind me. _He's angry, too._

"He was the only person I could trust," McDonough counters. "He was the only one who knew."

"Who knew what?" I ask, exasperated, my words being spit from my mouth.

"Well, neither of you are leaving here alive—I might as well say." Although his tone isn't as aggressive, he keeps his aim steady on me. "He knew that I'm from the Institute—replaced that good for nothing human McDonough. I'm M7-62—nice to meet you formally." He smiles—sarcastically—even as his gun remains.

"You're a synth?" I'm shocked. _Should have believed Piper,_ I think. _She knew somehow._

"Yes," he answers, almost sounding annoyed. "Now, if you're done with the whole shaken façade, one of us has to die now. Might as well get it over with, wouldn't you say? Since it'll be you."

* * *

Alone, I stepped off the lift and went into McDonough's office to a scene folding out in front of me—and I couldn't believe my eyes at the sight of it.

My family—Robert with Victoria, Shaun, Duncan—were all standing by the mayor's desk with Diamond City guards behind them. One guard per person. Guns drawn to their heads.

"Now that you're here, the show can start," McDonough said. "Gentlemen," he signified to the masked guards.

On command, each guard kneed my boys in the back of the legs, making them fall to the ground. Tori started crying, making me want to lurch forward all the more, and save my family. Yet, I found whenever I tried to move, my legs stayed in place—I reached the conclusion that I couldn't save them, no matter how hard I tried.

"You realize you can't save them." McDonough seemed to have been able to read my mind. He grinned—an evil, crooked snarl. I sensed another man approaching me from behind—and although I knew he was supposed to be dead—I could have sworn I felt Dick's eyes on the back of my neck. McDonough continued, "This is how it ends." He looked to the four guards, who stood threatening the most important people in my life. "Fire."

 _No. This can't be real. Wake up, Beth!_

Without a word—a single ounce of remorse—the guards did as they were told. I couldn't help but scream loud enough to shatter what little glass remained in the windows as I saw all four lives in front of me ended. My husband, my two young sons, my infant daughter—gone.

Again, I wanted to run forward—even though it was already too late. But I still couldn't move forward as much as I tried. Suddenly, I felt myself being dragged sideways, into the inner depths of the mayor's office. I continued to scream out, but to no avail—I kept being dragged, until the metal doors clanged closed, distancing me from the horrific scene of my second chance at a family having been taken from me.

"Beth!"

I fling my eyes open, a scream still resonating from my throat.

Danse is in front of me, a terrified expression on his face. His hand is on my shoulder—probably from shaking me awake. I realize I'm lying on the couch in Home Plate. I remember telling him to take the bed last night—in the guilt of making Robert sleep on the couch all that time ago, I felt it was my turn.

"Beth? Are you awake now?" I want to answer, but can't for some reason. I can't even nod.

I find myself staring at the button on his shirt's chest pocket, trying not to lose it. But I do anyway. I grip onto his arm, letting all hell break loose. "They… They—" I blab. "They were—" _Executed._ Another wave washes up from the coast of despair, and I feel a new batch of hot tears pouring out. "I just… I can't," I tell him. "I can't."

"Shh," he hushes me. "It's okay. You don't have to." He somehow wiggles out of my hold and stands, moving my head out of the way, sitting on the couch, and replaces my head on his knee, where once was a pillow. He brushes some hair out of my face that I hadn't even noticed.

"You don't have to," he repeats, continuing to pet my head in a comforting way. The back of my mind registers how odd it is for him to be showing any kind of affection—even if it is a comforting gesture. But only in the back of my head I think this, because I still can't get the image from my nightmare out of my mind—my dead family.

For the longest time, I just lay here with my head on Danse's knee, weeping and quietly making noises of desolation. Once my breathing slows, and I'm able to wipe some tears away, I whisper, "He killed them…"

"Who killed who?" Danse asks, in nearly as quiet a voice.

"McDonough killed them—Robert, Duncan, Victoria, Shaun. Lined them up and—" My breath hitches, and I don't even bother to finish the sentence. "I guess he wanted to get back at me."

"Beth," Danse says, his tone firm. "McDonough is dead. You killed him yesterday—he didn't give you a choice." I turn my head so I can see his face. He looks like how his tone sounds—firm. "They're fine. He can't hurt them. It was just a nightmare." After a beat, he again says, "They're fine."

I turn my head forward again, looking toward what once served just Robert and I as a kitchen. "I know."

"…You really worry about them, don't you?"

I nod. "I'm hardly ever far from them for long periods of time," I say. "I know I can't protect them from everything, but it doesn't mean I don't try." I shake my head. "I don't know why my mind decided to make me dream that. What a rotten thing for my subconscious to do to me."

"We'll leave in the morning," Danse replies. "Get you back home to see them, alive and well." He lays his head on the back of the couch as he places his hand on my shoulder—his way of prolonged comfort. "Get some sleep, Beth."

I take it he's not going anywhere soon, so I close my eyes and hope for the rest of the night to be dreamless.

* * *

When I step through my front door, I hear the boys upstairs—probably playing with their cars or something—and Robert in the kitchen, banging pots together in what sounds like dinner preparation. I see Tori in the living room, sitting on the floor with a few kitchen utensils strewn about that Robert had most likely supplied her with. But at the moment, she's all but ignoring them as she occupies herself with her favorite teddy bear her godfather gave her—who had gone back to his house after arriving home. She looks up, sees me, and starts cooing, a big smile on her face. I walk up to her, picking her up—along with her toy—and hug her to me. I'm especially happy to see her after the dream I had last night. "Hi, Vitya," I whisper to her. "Mommy loves you."

She lays her head on my shoulder in contentment as Robert finally sees me. "Hey. Snuck in behind me, eh?" He comes over to me in the living room, expecting a hug—but I give him more than that. Kissing him hard, he leans back, looking me in the face, his brows instantly scrunching together. "What's wrong—what happened?"

I know my face gives away that something went haywire while visiting Diamond City, but I don't feel like discussing it yet. "Later," I promise him. He nods in understanding, giving me a big hug, then returns to his meal prep.

I head up the stairs to enjoy time with my three kids, hoping I can shake off the nightmare for good once I see them playing happily.


	50. 49 Well, Have A Cow

49\. Well, Have A Cow

MacCready POV

 _We Own The Sky_ by M83

Beth told me a few weeks ago that when she was in Diamond City, she saw a piece of paper with an ad on it. It read that a brahmin was for sale someplace up north—a tarberry farm I'd never heard of called the Slog. _What a name,_ I'd thought. She convinced me it'd be a good idea to invest in a brahmin—maybe for the meat, or just for milking purposes. _I'm not going to lactate into my eighties—sorry,_ she had chuckled.

So, with this idea in mind, we loaded up the boat at the butt crack of dawn with our travel supplies, grabbed the kids, and are now on our way to buy this mutated cow she speaks of. And, as we're nearing Nahant, Beth steps up behind me with Victoria as I steer our metal water-bound steed.

"Hold your arms out," she tells me. With no other instruction, I do as I'm told.

She then starts this intricate process, confusing the heck outta me. In no longer than two minutes, I have our daughter strapped to my back. "What on earth?"

"It's a baby wrap," she explains. "It'll keep our hands free. And now that she's old enough, she doesn't _need_ to be carried in our arms—this'll do just fine. I found this long piece of material a while back—and since large portions of fabric are kinda rare nowadays—I snagged it. Figured it'd come in handy one day. Ta da—Vitya backpack," she motions to my back as she quickly walks out of the cabin of the boat—probably to escape my reaction. _I can't believe she's been calling her "Vitya." Almost more than "Victoria" or "Tori." It's weird._ Grinning, _I like it._

Speaking of which, as I think this, Vitya reaches her hand over my shoulder, wanting some form of contact with me. "Hey," I say to her as I reach my own hand back, grabbing hers. "How's Daddy's Victoria Abigail today?" She coos in response, wrapping her hand around my finger, making me smile. "Oh, c'mon. You're not gonna say anything back? I know you can." I continue to feel the weight of her stare on the side of my face—but no response. I sigh, "Gonna make me wait some more, huh? You take after your mom. You might have been born sooner, but she made me wait, too."

"Who made you wait for what?" I hear Beth ask as she walks back in, she having heard only the last half of that sentence.

"Nothing," I chuckle. Distracting her, I say, "Well, here we are. Kingsport Lighthouse." I make sure Vitya is secure on my back—or at least _feels_ secure—before shutting off the boat and picking up my rifle. The boys brandish their own guns as Beth wields hers. And off we go.

I lead the way westward—as to provide Victoria better cover and shelter—with Duncan and Shaun between Beth and I. But as we're coming closer to the outskirts of Salem, we start noticing trails of blood along the road. I alone spot a camo bandana—a tell-tale way of assuring Gunners were nearby at some point. _I really don't want to run into anybody from my Gunner days…_ I connect the dots and presume the blood we've been seeing belongs to some Gunners. At least one of them—although the amount of blood would suggest more, as a single man or woman cannot live with that much blood loss.

"Dad? Whatever caused that has to be dead by now, right?" I look back to Shaun, who looks a little afraid.

"Maybe," I say. "It _could_ be dead. But, keep your eyes peeled, just in case. You, too, Duncan." He nods, holding his pistol up higher.

I'm not sure why we started to follow the road north, instead of continuing west. But as we keep moving toward Salem, Beth sees a building ahead. "Let's look in there."

"You think that's a good idea?" I ask. "You see a trail of blood and immediately want to get closer? I worry about you sometimes."

"I worry about me _all_ the time," she retorts. "But, I still want to know what's in there. I haven't been to Salem."

"Ever?" Duncan asks.

"Ever," she replies. "I know I lived somewhat nearby, but I never got to make the trip." She shrugs. "If I've heard right, I think this is a museum of some sort."

We're now naught but a few yards from the front door. The sign above it had seen better days, the words on it worn off completely—yet our attention is drawn to the side of the building. "Help…" I hear a woman call quietly.

Coming around the side of the place, I see said woman of about thirty years lying on her stomach on the ground. And she's not down there for fun—she's stuck on the ground due to one of her legs missing. It looks as if it'd been ripped off viciously by something big and mean.

"There's—there's a few of my men in there," she struggles to say. "I barely had the strength the climb out of the cellar. Please. Save them for me. They don't deserve to go like this…" I look behind her, to the cellar she speaks of. I can see the hatches open, and a trail of blood coming from it, leading to where she is now. "I haven't heard anything in a while," she quietly continues, "but they may still be okay… Please…" She closes her eyes, and due to lack of blood, gives up the ghost.

"Robert?" Beth calls to me. "Should we?"

"Whatever caused that," I point to the deceased woman's missing leg, "might still be in there. So, 'should we,' as in risk our lives to go check on strangers? Or 'should we,' as in keep going to buy a brahmin as planned?"

She looks at me in an empathetic kind of way. "What if that were us? We'd want someone to help us, right?" She starts to head toward the cellar doors. "You guys can stay here if you want, but I'm going." She descends into the basement of the odd building. Both boys shrug then follow their mother.

 _I can either stay out here and wait, or go with them._ I think for a moment before sighing and following her myself. Aloud, "I'm getting bad vibes from this place. We shouldn't be here."

* * *

Keeping up with Beth was a little difficult at first. She moved quickly through the basement—until she saw a body a few rooms from the cellar doors. It appeared to have fallen through a hole in the floor—and was completely ripped to shreds. This slowed her gait, yet she insisted on continuing.

When we reached the top floor, she realized this must have been the Museum of Witchcraft that Salem was famous for. There were mannequins spread throughout the rooms, situated in positions suggesting they were witches and warlocks—tied to a stake with kindling and logs at the feet, hanging from a tree branch sticking out from the wall. However, neither of these things had our attention for long. "Look," Duncan pointed toward an area we hadn't been yet.

Lying in the corner, near some bathrooms, was a deathclaw. It seemed to have taken quite the beating before it died—and according to a Gunner's holotape—rightfully so.

"The poor thing was just trying to protect her babies," Beth said, making me question her sanity in calling it a _poor thing._ "We can't leave without doing something about it." She had looked at me with a pouty face.

"No way," I told her. "I'm not doing _anything_ about it." I was hoping my tone was enough to show my seriousness. And what did my seriousness accomplish? Nothing.

* * *

"Did you really have to? We could have just kept it there. It's not on us to take care of everything," I say to Beth as we _finally_ continue along our original Slog route.

"Yes, I really had to. There was no way this baby was staying there." Beth pats her bag, which is now weighed down by the single pristine deathclaw egg she'd snatched from the Museum of Witchcraft. "If it doesn't hatch, I imagine this would make quite the omelet for our breakfast some morning."

"And if it _does_ hatch?" I ask her.

"Then we get to have another pet." She smiles like that's what she wishes would happen.

I suddenly recall her lying fully clothed in a bathtub full of water. _You know, I've been thinking… We should get a pet deathclaw. That'd be awesome,_ she'd said. I laugh, earning a semi-confused look. "Nothing," I say, chuckling again.

If we hadn't of just stumbled across the situation, I would have thought she'd done it on purpose—just to get her pet deathclaw she was wanting.

The rest of the trip is made with idle chat between the four of us—Shaun mentions how he'd like to have Curie's microscope since she'd left it behind, Duncan talks a little bit about the book he's been reading the past few nights, Beth and I discuss a few random topics ourselves. All the while, Vitya is more than comfortable strapped to me, as if she's my own personal rucksack. According to Beth—who is half behind me, half beside me—she's just looking around, drinking in the unfamiliar sights.

Once we're near the tarberry farm, the sky starts to darken—and turns a sickly yellowish-green colour—although Beth's Pip-Boy says it's only around noon. "Looks like a radstorm," I tell her. "Haven't seen one of these in a long time." She nods, agreeing.

"Good thing I brought a pack of RadAway," she says. "I wonder if Shaun will be affected. What about Duncan—does he get sick from them?" Her tone suddenly sounds fearful as she asks, "What about Tori? She's never been in one, and with her baby immune system—"

I stop her. "We'll find some shelter. This Slog place should have at least one building. We'll be fine— _she'll_ be fine."

We make it to the farm before the first crack of radioactive thunder. However, we're disappointed to see the single building in the whole settlement has two enormous open doorways, and nothing but windows on the walls that _do_ stand as shelter. Quickly, we introduce ourselves to the leader of the settlement, and state our intention of buying their brahmin that's for sale after hunkering down for the following storm.

After asking if we can use their poolside building to stay in during the storm, Wiseman, the leader, says "Sure. Look, I'm sorry, folks. Rads don't affect us ghouls, as you know." He indicates the entirety of the farm's population—every one of them being a ghoul. "You're welcome to stay anyway. I suppose a roof is better than nothing for you humans. It's been a while since I've been like you." He walks off with a few of the tarberry farmers, leaving us in the building alone.

The first crash of thunder sounds off—casting a strike of mean-looking lightning with it, and making Beth's Pip-Boy start clicking.

I suppose since Shaun has spent all his life underground, he's not seen a radstorm yet. As another crack of thunder splits the sky, he cowers into the mattress he and Duncan are sitting on. Duncan wraps his arm around him. "It's okay," he comforts his brother. "It's just a little radstorm. It'll be over before you know it."

But it doesn't end quickly. The wind starts howling, blowing in debris and fallout from the Glowing Sea. It starts raining harder than it has in a good while—some of it even blowing in through the windows that line the wall above us.

As the storm rages outside—continuing to blow in from time to time—Beth scoots closer to me on the mattress we share as a seat. She begins to unwind the material that clings Vitya to me. Throwing it to the boys, she instructs them to cover their faces and hands with it, then tucks Victoria into her shirt, covering her skin with it.

"Gonna be a long day," she says to me.

* * *

After a couple hours of the storm, it finally calms down. Both Duncan and Shaun had gone to sleep under the wrap their mom gave them. But as they wake, Shaun complains, "I don't feel good." Duncan nods along, an expression of illness on his own face, saying he doesn't feel well, either.

Beth takes Vitya out from under her shirt, handing her to me as she digs out the single package of RadAway she had brought. "I only brought one IV for it," she announces. "It'll take longer to work, but we'll have to drink it with some water."

I know I don't feel too good myself, and from Beth's face, I'd say she's a little under the weather, too.

She gets out a bottle of water for each of us, puts some RadAway into it, and hands them out. Then she looks to Tori. "What about her?" she asks, looking from the pack of the radiation meds to a bottle of water. "How do I give her some?"

I look down to her face for the first time since I'd taken her from Beth. She looks fine.

"Is she even sick?" I ask after I take a drink of the elixir Beth had concocted. "She looks alright to me."

Beth looks to her Pip-Boy—probably checking her own amount of rads—before she unhinges and slips it off. "Maybe there's a sensor in here or something. I never thought about it before, but it has some way of detecting me." As she says this, she turns it around in her hands, looking at the inside that touches her forearm. "Ah, here we go. Found it." She takes Vitya's hand and presses her arm to a small patch within the lining. "It's recalibrating," she tells me. "There she is. …Um." She looks up at me, looking quite confused.

"What is it?" I ask, craning my neck to see the rad display on her Pip-Boy.

"She doesn't have _any_ rads," Beth says.

"None?" She shakes her head. I look to Vitya, who is just sitting here on my lap, letting her mom do whatever she pleases with her arm. She looks around the room at first before settling her eyes on her brothers, smiling and cooing at them when they look back at her.

"Maybe she takes after me?" Beth draws my attention back to her as she slips Victoria's arm out from the device. "I didn't get very many from the storm, either. You three," she indicates Shaun, Duncan, and myself, "didn't look too good when it passed through."

I have to agree with her. "I guess she does take after you. I'm glad—cause I was worried how she'd fare." I look to my bottle of water infused with RadAway. "Maybe she should take a few drinks anyway? Just to be sure?"

"I don't think it'd hurt."

I turn Vitya in my lap so she can see me a bit more. Taking a drink of the meds—it tasting less than satisfactory—I make a pleased noise, pretending it's good. Putting the bottle up to her lips, she looks at it with her mouth open. She takes a single sip, then backs up, making a face as if to say it's the worst thing she's ever tried.

Beth laughs, "It looks like she licked a lemon!" Vitya looks at her laughing mother with her face still scrunched up.

Just to see what she'd do, I hold the bottle back up to the girl in my lap. "No!" she says, cutting Beth's laugh short, and making all four of us look at her. Victoria turns her head away from the nasty medicine, unaware of our shock from hearing her speak again.

"I don't think she needs to babble anymore," Beth says, still staring at her. "Sounds like she's got this in the bag."

* * *

"How'd the storm go for you guys?" Wiseman asks once we leave the building.

"Not too bad," I respond. "My wife had a bag of RadAway, so we managed."

"That's good." He walks us over to a pin. "Well, this is our brahmin," he tells us. "Still want her?"

Beth replies. "Absolutely. It'd be a wise investment."

"She is," the leader concedes. "We just can't keep the poor heifer anymore. Not enough sales or crops to feed us and her, too."

"I understand. Well, I can spread word of your farm, if you want me to. We go to Diamond City and Goodneighbor ever so often—I'm sure some of the venders would be interested in buying some tarberries from you."

"You're kind," he smiles. "We'd greatly appreciate that."

Beth digs out a bag from her traveling satchel. "Here's your caps—500, as you were asking for."

Wiseman takes the bag, opens it, and starts counting out some. When he reaches one hundred, he places them back into Beth's hand. "400 is fine with us. You and your family endured a lot—came a long way—just to buy Beatrice. Consider your spreading word about us as the rest of the payment, alright?"

"You sure?" I ask.

"Positive. You're good people—I like you. Hopefully, we can do business in the future. Next time you're in the neighbourhood, stop by. There's always a spot for you here at the Slog." He turns to the cow, both of its heads looking at him. "You're theirs now. You have a good home waiting, Beatrice." Looking back to us, "Take care of her."

"We will." Beth smiles, takes the rope around the cow's neck, and leads us eastward.

* * *

As we arrive home sometime around eight-thirty in the evening, Shaun and Duncan help me herd our new animal off the boat and toward the northeast portion of the island as Beth and Vitya go to the house. Danse and I—for the better part of two weeks—had been building a small barn for our new addition. And as we step closer to it—Beatrice right with us—I'm happy to see he'd completed it while we were gone.

Putting the cow into the pin within the barn, I take a look around as the boys head back home. "He did a good job," I muse as I look inside the storage shed, walk up the stairs to the loft—serving Beth and I as our own sort of treehouse.

"Thought I heard you come back," Danse says as he walks in. "See the transaction went well." He nods his head toward the two-headed creature.

"Hey. Yeah, it went well." I walk down the stairs from the loft as I continue, "The ghoul selling it actually gave us a hundred of our caps back—so that was cool. He said since we're gonna be spreading word to increase sales, that'd be the rest of the money. And I think he kinda felt bad about not having adequate shelter during that radstorm."

"Yeah, about that. How'd you guys do? You said they didn't have shelter?"

"Well… Kind of. But the structure had a ton of windows, so a good amount of the storm blew in. The boys got pretty sick, and Beth and I had mild symptoms ourselves. She had RadAway at least."

"What about Vitya?"

I laugh. "Get this: she accumulated none. No rads."

"None?" I realize he sounds like I did when Beth told me this.

"None. She's immune apparently. May be some kind of genetic mutation she got from Beth. We all know Beth isn't normal when it comes to Post-War stuff." We both chuckle as he nods.

"Wow," he comments about Vitya. "I'm glad. The wind blew a lot of fallout in from the Sea this time. I was worried about her, with it being her first radstorm and all."

"Us, too. Hope it holds up for the rest of her life. Must be nice—not having to deal with radiation."

* * *

When I reach home—a good hour of talking had gone by after Danse had come into the barn—I hear nothing. _The boys must be asleep. Wouldn't be this quiet if they weren't._

I pass the living room—see the deathclaw egg sitting in one of the armchairs—and shake my head, going into the kitchen to grab a pack of gumdrops, and head up the stairs. Walking into the bedroom, I see Beth changing Victoria's nappy on the bed.

"Thank God for cloth diapers. Clean disposable ones would be really hard to come by these days," she says.

She secures the new diaper on as she takes the old one into the bathroom, leaving me with my baby girl. Seeing me, she starts wiggling—flailing her arms and legs as if she's working out or something. I walk up to her—goofily, as to make her giggle—and before I put her clothes back on, I bend down and blow raspberries on her stomach, making her laugh all the more. Beth walks in, asking, "What are you two doing?"

"Playing." I blow on her stomach again, Vitya's giggles starting back up.

"Children," Beth says, trying to hold back a chuckle. "It's time for bed. You're getting her all worked up—she won't sleep for hours now. Hopefully you hadn't woken up Duncan or Shaun yet."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad," I joke, earning an eye roll. "Watch this—I bet you a cap that she'll fall asleep within a couple minutes."

I slip Victoria's clothing back on, pick her up, and lay on the bed with her on my chest.

"A cap, huh?" Beth asks, grinning at us.

"Yes—a single cap. I'm not a rich man, babe." She chuckles. And not a minute later, Victoria is asleep. "Well? Where's my money?" I ask Beth.

"I'll get it to you in the morning after I cash a check." With her having put on her pajamas while Vitya nodded off, Beth climbs into bed, setting her glasses on the nightstand.

I stand, carefully putting Vitya in her crib, and change myself into a pair of shorts—no shirt, as it's too hot tonight. Snatching up my pack of gumdrops I'd laid to the side, I slip into bed, and offer the box to Beth. "Want one?"

"Nah. Thanks, though." Shrugging, I open the box further and pour somewhere around half of them into my mouth. Laughing, she says, "Now _you're_ not going to be able to sleep—you'll be too energetic on your sugar high." I shake my head, my mouth too full to speak.

I set the box down on my side table for tomorrow night or whenever. Sliding down under the duvet more, I turn toward Beth. After swallowing the remains of my sweet tooth, I say, "So, we have a brahmin now."

"Yeah. That's cool. It's so different from Pre-War cows' milk, but hey—better than nothing."

"Mhmm." I wiggle to her, laying my head on her shoulder. She frees her arm, wrapping it around my back. I hear her say something, but it doesn't register—I've already started to lose my consciousness.

But I swear I do hear her chuckle.

* * *

 _A/N: Maybe she found it ironic how he'd fallen asleep as easily as Victoria had_ — _despite her doubts due to the sugar. But, then again, maybe not._


	51. 50 It's a Wonderful Life

_A/N: This is it_ — _the final chapter! Seems like it had only just began..._

* * *

50\. It's a Wonderful Life

Beth POV

 _Jungle_ by Panama

It's Christmas Eve. Already. Seemed like it was just the other day that Vitya was born. I don't even cringe at my use of her father's nickname for her anymore. It's just who she is. Shoot—she responds more to it than she does her actual name nowadays. Might as well give in and use it, huh?

Speaking of which, we held a small birthday celebration for everyone's favourite now one-year-old girl. I'd made a plain cake—kind of resembling a sweetroll—with mutfruit dressing. She really enjoyed it, which made me happy. It doesn't appear like she'll be picky—and that's a blessing due to the restricted kinds of foods these days.

Also, in other exciting news, my deathclaw hatched! The egg that I'd picked up and brought home with us from Salem when we bought Beatrice—we decided to keep her name—ended up not being a dud after all. Odd thing, though, is that he's an albino. Nothing's wrong with him—he seems as healthy as creatures can be these days—just his skin, horns, and claws all have this sort of white-pink colour to them. And, if I'm being honest, I really like it. It makes him unique. I named him Buddy.

"Hey, babe?" Robert gets my attention. I realize I'd been spacing out while chopping carrots for a snack. Looking up from my knife to his face, he asks, "Do you know where Victoria's bear is? She's been whining for it all afternoon." He glances about the kitchen. "Ah, there it is." He picks it up off the counter. "How'd it get here?"

"Not sure. I guess one of the boys put it there earlier." I nibble on one of the pieces of orange vegetable.

"I guess. Weird." He also grabs a carrot stick, letting the teddy bear dangle from his hand. Calling into the living room, he says, "I found your teddy bear, Vitya!"

As we both chomp on the small afternoon snack, we hear a small noise coming from the living room—small but fast, and coming closer. Like little footsteps.

And soon enough, Victoria comes barreling around the corner—not crawling, and not even walking—but running!

She hasn't taken a single step in all her life. The only time she's ever moved of her own accord was when she moved from the couch to Robert's lap when he was reading _Corduroy_ to her. All other times, she's relied on us to move her from room to room, and even from one side of the room to the other.

Once she's in the kitchen, she sees her teddy bear hanging from Robert's hand—now more from shock than lack of toy attention—and takes it from him, hugging it to her chest. "Teddy…" she says as she smiles, happy to see it. This is another revelation. She's only said two other words—"Daddy," and "no."

Content with her toy, it still in her arms, she calmly walks out of the room. Walks. Like she's been doing it for years.

"I'd say she was happy I found it," Robert says, staring after her with bewilderment still written on his face. I'm too speechless to say anything, so I just nod my head in agreement.

* * *

Instead of going to Diamond City for Christmas this year, we decided to stay at home and have a nice, family holiday. We don't have anything to give to one another, but is that what Christmas is all about? Answer: no.

Somehow, we'd laid hands on some holotapes with Christmas music on them. We'd been playing them all day today, and even most of yesterday. I'm currently listening to the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra singing _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_. I honestly love this time of year.

I hear Robert and company walking through the front door. He'd gone to get Danse, and as the latter comes into the kitchen where I'm preparing our Christmas dinner, he asks, "So, I missed it, huh? Her first word, her first steps. I'm starting to think she doesn't love me."

The dejection in his voice makes me chuckle as I lay the roast into the oven. "You know she does too love you."

"Where is the little monster anyway?" he asks.

"Out in the garden, doing her part of her chores with her brothers. I have a feeling it's gonna be hard to keep her from getting into stuff now that she runs everywhere." He chuckles as he walks out the back door.

Ever since Curie left, the garden had been left unattended. Robert and I spoke about it and we felt like the boys were finally old enough to take on some responsibility around the island. So, that is now their job—gardeners.

As I'm emptying the contents of a box of InstaMash into a saucepan, I hear Robert walk up behind me and feel his arms as they snake themselves around my waist, feel the small kiss he plants at the base of my exposed neck. "I'm trying to cook here, hon," I joke.

"Too late," he retorts. "I already found something to eat on." He gently bites the side of my neck, earning a squeak out of me.

I take the wooden spoon in my hand and smack his arm with it, splatting instant potatoes onto his skin. "You can tease all you want," I tell him, "but I know you're hungry." He proves me right as he lets me go and licks his arm where I'd left potatoes on him, grinning sheepishly. "I still have some silt beans to cook, so let me be, Dracula—you neck nibbler, you."

"I didn't bite that hard—so, I'm no Dracula," he says. "But there is a scrooge in the room." He feigns a frown and sits at the dining table.

"You didn't let me finish." He looks at me expectantly. "I was going to say that Dracula always attacks at night. You know, when the damsels aren't cooking. And the kids are asleep." I wiggle my eyebrows at him, making him smile.

"Okay. I'll be Dracula then. As long as you're not a scrooge then, too."

"I suggested it," I say.

"Touché."

* * *

"So, tonight went well," I say, a little out of breath, as I lie in bed next to my husband.

"It did," he responds, even more breathless than me.

"I mean, the boys didn't seem upset we had no gifts for them. And Danse had a good time with Tori." I remember the one gift that _was_ given. "I thought it was nice of Shaun—giving his Giddyup Buttercup to his sister." The horse toy we'd given him last year—to tinker around with, since he likes working with his hands—made a nice re-gift for Vitya. He said he didn't need it anymore, and now with the toddler of the house on the move, he said she'd enjoy it more.

"Mhmm." Robert scoots closer to me, lying his head on my stomach.

After a few minutes of silence—enough time for our breath to catch up—he asks, "What're you thinking about?"

"Life," I simply tell him.

"What of it?" he asks, leaning up onto his elbow to see my face better.

"Well… Two years ago, I had barely gotten brave enough to leave the vicinity of Sanctuary Hills. I met you—started my new life. I admit, it's been a bumpy ride. But I don't think I'd do it any different if I had the option to. I have the perfect family now. Comrade turned brother. Two handsome boys, a beautiful daughter. You. I'm an incredibly lucky woman with how it all turned out. I'm just happy life decided to give me a second chance after all."

"You're not the only lucky one," Robert says, bringing me out of my reverie. "You think I don't feel lucky being able to call you mine? You, a smoothskin Pre-War," he chuckles. "You're beautiful, kind, an amazing mother, a fantastic wife. I honestly don't know what I've done to deserve you."

I lay my hand on his cheek and smile. "If only you could see yourself the way I do—you'd understand just how." He smiles back at me and leans into my touch.

We both stand and take a shower, put on our pajamas before we get any more tired. And I'm glad we did. Because sometime halfway through the night, after Robert is long asleep, I'm woken up by a small hand on my arm. "Mom?"

I turn toward my name and open my eyes to see Duncan. "What is it, baby?" I whisper.

"I had a bad dream, and I can't sleep. Can I sleep with you and Dad?"

"Of course, sweetie." I bend the covers back, letting him crawl over me and settle between his father and I. He snuggles into me more, resting his head on my arm. And within minutes, he's passed out cold—and making a rather close impression—just a younger version—of his dad's snoring.

I look at two of my five-member family, and count my blessings. "Merry Christmas," I whisper to everyone.

* * *

It is now April of 2297.

I know. Time has flown by.

I'm now 35 years old, Robert is 31. Shaun and Duncan have grown to be exceptional young men, at 19 and 14, respectively. And Vitya is now 8. A bit rambunctious, and sassy as hell. But she's a big tomboy—loves to play with her brothers, with whatever they're doing at the moment.

Her hair ended up swinging more toward the strawberry than blonde—by a lot. One might say her hair looks like fire—bright red, very wavy, and wild. But it goes along with her personality. We still don't know where it came from—since my and Robert's hair are nowhere near the shade—but we chalk it up to being from a gene somewhere down the line.

Danse did settle down finally. Haylen retired from the BOS and moved onto the island with us. So, it can be guessed who he settled down _with._

Turns out, her name was actually "Hayley," not "Haylen." When she first met Danse—who was also her mentor, like he was mine—she was so shy that she hadn't spoken loud enough for him to hear her. So, he thought she'd told him her name was Haylen. She didn't correct him, and soon, everyone had gotten to know her by the misheard name. She just rolled with it until she moved back to the Commonwealth. Needless to say, we were all surprised. However, Danse could only remember that being his only name, so he kept it—becoming the one-name man of the island.

"Come on! We need to get going soon!" Robert yells through the front door.

"It's been there for over two centuries!" I call back at him. "It's not like it's going anywhere."

"We told the DeLorias that we'd meet them there next Wednesday, not next year," he continues to rush me.

The kids are outside—probably on the boat already—but I can't stop myself from the Pre-War habit of checking everything in the house before a trip.

Robert walks back in the door, sees me checking the oven to make sure it's off. "Babe. Danse and Hayley are still going to be here. They're already taking care of Dogmeat, Buddy, and Beatrice. So, they'll be checking on the house, too, I'm sure. You worry too much."

"Can't help it," I tell him, finally satisfied enough with the state of the house to leave it alone.

As we're walking to the boathouse, he intertwines our fingers. "Finally. A family vacation."

"Going to Diamond City isn't enough anymore, eh?" I tease, looking up at him with a grin.

"It won't be after this—I guarantee it."

We step foot on the boat and Robert heads straight into the cabin, to the driver's position. I see that Shaun is doing something with the cargo onboard as Duncan and Victoria sit quietly, playing some kind of card game.

"You guys ready?" Robert asks, to which he receives a collective _yes_.

"Alright," I say. "Nuka-World, here we come!"

* * *

 _A/N: That's all, folks!_

 _I truly appreciate all my readers! And, if you've made it this far_ — _as I'd said all the way back in the introduction_ — _you're my favourite person in the whole wide world. :)_

 _I have ideas for some other fics, but have no clue when I'll be starting_ — _nonetheless_ uploading _them. One idea may contain Nuka-World. As probably assumed._

 _Anyway, thank you for the read_ — _again. I really do appreciate you! :)_

 _Come say hi on Tumblr: iamfrom101_


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